


Indigo Dreams

by GuardiansLibrary



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 1950's AU, Angst, Danger, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Magician AU, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7561297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardiansLibrary/pseuds/GuardiansLibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So basically an AU where Bill is a magician who just came to Gravity Falls. Dipper wants to prove that his magic is fake, so he gets a job as Bill’s assistant. However, it turns out that Bill’s magic is the real deal… Dipper and Mabel are aged to 20, Bill is 21.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel gasped as Dipper heard a ripping sound from behind him. Thinking she had torn her dress or something, he whirled around, only to find her smiling and forcibly pressing a flyer to his chest.</p><p>“Look look look! It’s a flyer for that magician’s show as an assistant!” Dipper took the flyer as Mabel bounced up and down in front of him. The flyer was presumably handwritten in neat, tidy print:</p><p> </p><p>H E L P     W A N T E D</p><p>MAGICIAN’S ASSISTANT FOR HIRE, APPLICANTS MUST BE IN GOOD PHYSICAL CONDITION AND WILLING TO PARTICIPATE IN POSSIBLY DANGEROUS STUNTS AND ACTS<br/>INTERVIEWS WILL BE RUNNING FROM 10:30 A.M. TO 11:30 A.M. ON SATURDAY, JUNE 5TH<br/>AT 354 TREMBLY WAY (THE PATH INTO THE WOODS)<br/>FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED</p><p> </p><p>    “Don’t tell me you’re going to apply to that weirdo’s show?” Dipper asked, looking up at his sister. </p><p>    “Of course not, silly!” she said. “You are!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was created by Falling Star and Razzle Dazzle (TheGreatDorito). We appreciate constructive criticism and suggestions from our readers. You may create fan artwork of this story if you choose to, as along as you give credit to this work. If you have any questions feel free to ask us through either PM or review section. Thank you and please enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So basically an AU where Bill is a magician who just came to Gravity Falls. Dipper wants to prove that his magic is fake, so he gets a job as Bill’s assistant. However, it turns out that Bill’s magic is the real deal… Dipper and Mabel are aged to 20, Bill is 21.
> 
>  
> 
> Mabel gasped as Dipper heard a ripping sound from behind him. Thinking she had torn her dress or something, he whirled around, only to find her smiling and forcibly pressing a flyer to his chest.
> 
> “Look look look! It’s a flyer for that magician’s show as an assistant!” Dipper took the flyer as Mabel bounced up and down in front of him. The flyer was presumably handwritten in neat, tidy print:
> 
>  
> 
> H E L P W A N T E D
> 
> MAGICIAN’S ASSISTANT FOR HIRE, APPLICANTS MUST BE IN GOOD PHYSICAL CONDITION AND WILLING TO PARTICIPATE IN POSSIBLY DANGEROUS STUNTS AND ACTS  
> INTERVIEWS WILL BE RUNNING FROM 10:30 A.M. TO 11:30 A.M. ON SATURDAY, JUNE 5TH  
> AT 354 TREMBLY WAY (THE PATH INTO THE WOODS)  
> FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED
> 
>  
> 
> “Don’t tell me you’re going to apply to that weirdo’s show?” Dipper asked, looking up at his sister. 
> 
> “Of course not, silly!” she said. “You are!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was created by Falling Star and Razzle Dazzle (TheGreatDorito). We appreciate constructive criticism and suggestions from our readers. You may create fan artwork of this story if you choose to, as along as you give credit to this work. If you have any questions feel free to ask us through either PM or review section. Thank you and please enjoy.

 

\-------

_Some say magic is real and that there are those among us who are capable of using it. Others prefer to believe that such things as magic are just fantasies. I used to be in the group of individuals who pass off these tales for bedtime stories to tell our children. Key word being, “used to”._

\----------

 

Chapter 1

        “Mabel, this is stupid.”

    “Ah, Dipper! Lighten up! It could be fun!” Dipper’s twin sister, Mabel, clenched her hand tightly around his wrist as she lead him to the new attraction in town. The yellow tent was already crowded with people, and more were cramming their way inside. Dipper rolled his eyes. _These people are so gullible_ , he thought. _Don’t they see how fake this crap is?_

      Mabel was much more enthusiastic than he was about all of this. She had put on a thin pink sundress, with white polka-dots scattered around the material, as well as white gloves for the occasion. She also had somehow convinced Dipper to wear a dark navy collared shirt and a heavy brown jacket, sporting his favorite blue pine tree broach, even though it was extremely hot outside. Dipper was especially frustrated because they were sneaking out, technically speaking. If Stan knew they were giving business to a rival of the Mystery shack, he would make their lives a living hell for the rest of their stay. Dipper, in attempt to eliminate that chance, had tried to refuse. But Mabel’s signature puppy eyes accompanied with begging and complaining left Dipper with little choice. He knew she’d continue to bother him until he agreed. Now Dipper wasn’t so sure that was necessarily a bad thing compared to this. At least the house was cooler than the outside air that stuck to the sides of his body.

     Mabel finally shoved her way to the front of the line, Dipper in tow. “Two tickets please!” She chirped, letting go of Dipper to dig for her wallet. Dipper tossed around the idea of taking off while he was free of her grip, but decided against it.

    “That’ll be fifteen dollars,” A pale cashier said in a sickly country voice.

    “Mabel, that’s way too expensive,” Dipper said with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s get out of here already, it’s not worth it-” But Mabel was already forking over her money and dragging her brother inside.

    “It’s nothing, Dipper. Besides, we should spend our summer money on something fun!” Dipper sighed as they entered the unnaturally chilly tent.

   “Yeah,” he said, “but what’s fun for you isn’t always fun for me. C’mon Mabel, at least let me pay for my own ticket next time.”

      “Fine,” Mabel grumbled with a short huff. The inside of the tent was dim besides what lit the pathways, which were packed with sweaty people reeking of salt and hormones waiting for the show. A large stage at one end, and chairs filled up the rest of the space. Mabel rushed for two spots in the front row, but the twins settled for the third row after an elderly couple stole the seats Mabel had targeted. The townspeople crowded in around them to the point where people were standing in the aisles in between seats. The low roar of conversation grew steadily louder until almost the whole town was packed into the tent. Dipper rolled his eyes once more. He knew that most of the citizens of Gravity Falls were quite superstitious, but he had never expected such a turn out for a little show like this.

      After some time fog began to seep into the crowd from the large stage that was painted primarily yellow with light, with multiple other colors on the warm spectrum. As the flood of smoke washed over the audience, everyone turned their attention to the moving curtains as they were swiftly reared back to each corresponding side. Some individuals let out little gasps of anticipation, one being Mabel as she clutched the sides of her chair. Dipper ignored her child-like behavior and returned his gaze back at the stage.

     The stage was left bare, with navy blue curtains wrapping around to create a low budget backdrop and tiled wood floor; it was simplistic, but it still fit the theme of the tent. As a few moments passed with no one on stage. Dipper, along with the audience, grew more impatient. Dipper leaned over the side of the chair to convince Mabel that the show was a bust when suddenly, in a flash of lightning, a puff of cyan smoke exploded on the stage. A tall, slim figure remained disguised as the cloud hung in the air.

    “Why, hello there.” his chilling voice sliced through the air, high pitched and raucous.

      As the smog started to dissipate into the atmosphere, it revealed a man sharply dressed in a mostly yellow and black suit, with tails that hung from the rear of the vest lifted only a few inches from the tiled stage. He bent forward in a bow, extending his right arm to the side while the other was placed humbly on his chest, the audience began to clap and cheer. As he rose again, his gleaming eyes wandered over the individuals in the crowd until meeting with Dipper’s cold, unamused stare. The man gave him a small smile and dipped his head politely before redirecting his attention to the mass of people as they began to quiet down once again. Mabel beside him let out a small squeal, mistaking the bow for her.

     “Thanks for coming today to see my performance! I’m glad to see such a big turnout for my first show. And to show my appreciation, I’ll choose two members of the crowd who will help me with a few... tricks.” The man perked the corners of his mouth to form an unsettling smile and looked over the crowd, squinting at each and every patron seated in the tent. His eyes fell upon a young boy with red hair, whom was seated in the middle of the crowd. “You!” the man exclaimed, pointing to the boy. “Yes, you, right there! Come on, step right up!” The boy nervously looked around before standing, the magician helping him up to the stage. “O-kaaay…” The man’s gaze swept across the crowd, brandished with an exaggerated squint for effect, until it focused on Dipper, who wasn’t paying attention.

    “Hey, kid in the brown jacket!” the man shouted, pointing at Dipper with a knowing smile on his face. The younger man looked up as everyone’s eyes focused on him. “Well, don’t be shy,” the magician said after a few silent seconds. “Come on up here!”

    “Lucky…” Mabel muttered under her breath as Dipper stepped past her and walked into the aisle. He moved quickly up to the stage, and the magician pulled him up to the platform as he had with the other boy. Oddly, there was a lack of stairs on the side. Having said that, the stage was only a handful of inches above the ground anyways, so Dipper figured steps weren’t necessary.

      “Alright then!” The magician said cheerfully. “For my first trick, I’m going to make this one disappear!” He held up the hand of the first boy, enticing “ _oohs_ ” and “ _ahhs_ ” from the crowd, as his gaze flicked around the anticipated viewers. He was focused on pleasing his audience, all his charismatic energy pouring into the task. The man snapped his fingers with a flourish, and with a puff of smoke, a large box appeared in the middle of the stage. It was dark blue with a yellow triangle painted onto its center. “This,” he said, gesturing to the box by spreading his arms out is a sideways V, “is no ordinary box. It’s actually a magic closet! As soon as… Umm…” the man leaned towards the boy. “What’s your name?” He asked in a low whisper. “Ch-Charlie,” The boy whispered back. “Right, so as soon as Charlie here goes into the closet,” the magician pointed into the closet with a twist of his wrist, “he’ll be whisked away to… Well, somewhere that isn’t _too_ dangerous!” A soft din of anxious conversation rose from the crowd as the man ushered Charlie into the closet. He closed the door, and a tense silence fell over the crowd as they waited. The magician stared absentmindedly at his wrist as if he had a watch, which he did not, tapping his foot and humming.

_Way to ham it up, faker_ , Dipper thought bitterly.

       He soon reopened the closet, smiling as the crowd gasped. Charlie was gone. _Wow_ , Dipper thought sarcastically. _I’m so impressed_. He had seen this trick before on his television back in California. “And now, I’ll perform a true classic… making brown-jacket boy float off of a table!” The crowd cheered lightly, eager to see the trick. The man pushed the empty closet out of the way and snapped his fingers once more, summoning a long table with a white cloth. He gestured to the piece of furniture, smiling at Dipper. The boy sighed quietly and took his place on the table. The magician turned to face the crowd once more. “I’m sure you’ve all seen this trick before, but mine has…” He lifted his index finger in the air as he bent down and forward, “A twist!” The man snapped his fingers once again- a gesture Dipper was beginning to loathe- and suddenly he realized that he was floating.

     No strings. No glass. Just floating. Real floating.

       The crowd gasped as they watched the display. The magician whistled and caught a hula-hoop that someone from behind the curtain tossed to him. He put the hoop around Dipper, demonstrating the lack of strings or glass platforms. He smiled and tossed the hoop to the side, before grabbing the cloth and laying it over Dipper is such a way that the white fabric fanned out as dramatically as possible. “And now,” he said, “I’m going to bring back Charlie from wherever he went a few minutes ago!” He quickly shut the closet, and then tore the cloth off of Dipper. Except that now, Dipper was gone and Charlie laid suspended in his place.

     The magician dropped the cloth and the redhead floated down to the table. He sat up, his eyes wide and confused, before lifting a single hand to his head. The magician opened the closet to reveal Dipper standing there with a similar expression. He grabbed them both by the arm and pulled them to the front of the stage. “Let’s give a big round of applause for our wonderful volunteers!” The crowd cheered loudly as the boys walked back to their seats, solemn expressions on their faces.

       “Now, how about another oldie?” The magician asked, taking his top hat off and holding it out in front of him. He dipped his hand into the hat and, after shoving his entire arm in while making a show out of groping for something inside, pulled out a small bunny and plopped the hat back onto his head. The crowd applauded with a collective ‘Awww!’ The magician quickly silenced them with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Wait, wait,” He chirped, “that’s not the only part of this trick!” The man pulled a small white cloth from his pocket. He covered the rabbit, and small squeaks and the rustling of feathers could be heard as the small cloth shook. The crowd watched in shocked silence as the magician revealed that the rabbit had transformed into a dove. The white bird flew away over the cheering crowd.

      “There's more where that came from!” The man exclaimed, taking off his hat once more and lifting his it toward the roof of the tent, stretching forward on the tips of his fancy black-and-white shoes. At least a dozen birds flocked out of his hat, heading for the tent entrance in a cloud of squawks and feathers. The crowd cheered enthusiastically, even though some children screeched in horror. “Huh,” the man said when the birds were all gone, adorning himself with an overly perplexed expression. He looked down into his hat, tightly squeezing one eye shut and tilting the remaining one towards the fancy accessory. “‘Could’ve sworn there was another one in here…” He moved the hat as far away from himself as possible (which was quite far with such lengthy arms) and forcefully smacked the top. A bald eagle dropped out of the hat, gaining its balance just before it hit the wooden stage. The crowd cheered even louder than before, and one man with a thick country accent chanted ‘USA! USA!’ over the screaming crowd as the eagle moved overhead.

     Mabel let out a squeal of excitement as her eyes followed the eagle while it swiftly flew above their heads and out of the dim tent. Dipper looked up in awe at it as the majestic bird escaped from the tent, “How in the world did he do that?” he mumbled to himself.

     Mabel whipped her head to Dipper with stars in her eyes, “With _magic_!”

       Dipper puffed with amusement, he didn’t realize that his sister was so gullible. There had to be more to it right? Magic was just some fairy tale you’d tell to children, but just because there's this guy who randomly appears one day, claiming that he knows how to use magic, doing some phony tricks in front of a bunch of impressionable, sweaty people, adults can be fooled into believing the charade. _Dang, is the stench getting stronger?_ Dipper wrinkled up his nose as he noticed the pungent smell of hillbilly armpit. Doing his best to block out the smells, he redirected his attention to the flashy man on stage.

       After a handful of more acts with a handful more cheap special effects and snaps, he finally ended the show. “Sadly,” The magician said, with a fake look of disappointment, “That’s all I have to show to you wonderful patrons today.” This enticed several content cheers from the crowd. “However,” the man said, “I’ll be here next week, same time, and every week after that, for the rest of the summer!” The crowd clapped as he bowed, twisting his hands to the side with a flourish. “Oh, how silly of me,” he said as he stood. “I forgot to tell all you wonderful people who I am… My name, ladies and gentlemen, is Bill Cipher. Nice to meet you!” With another puff of cyan smoke, the lights went out and he was gone.

    People began to file out of the tent, lightly conversing about the show as they made their way home. Dipper caught a glance at his fellow volunteer walking in a group of what he guessed was his family, his hands taped to his forehead as he blankly stared at the ground, the older red-haired man patting his hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

_Man, wonder what got to him_.. Dipper furrowed his eyebrows in thought before tearing his gaze away from the strange scene. Mabel for one was ecstatic because _‘wow, he’s gonna be here next week too’_ and _‘oh wow he was handsome’_ and ‘ _Dipper do you think he’s single_?’ Dipper was half listening to her, only catching a few sentences as she rambled on. Dipper knew she was going through her boy crazy phase still, but she didn’t have to hit on every guy they met. Just last week, he had caught her flirting with some poor, uncomfortable looking man at a popsicle stand. “

    You know, considering he’s _so handsome_ ,” Dipper said mockingly as they finally got off of the dirt trail that led to the tent (of course, it had been placed up in the woods, making it even harder to hike up there), “I doubt he’s still single.” Truth be told, Dipper was pretty sure he was, but he really didn’t want his own sister crushing on such a fraud. “Oh shut up, Dip-dop,” Mabel protested, punching him lightly in the arm. It didn’t seem like it, with all of her color and spontaneous-ness, but Mabel was pretty sharp. Dipper knew she’d make a shrewd businesswoman one day, like their parents wanted her to be, even though he knew she’d wanted to go into art or music.

    “You don’t have to be so protective of me. Besides, I’d never have a shot with a guy like that and you know it.”

    “Oh please, Mabel,” Dipper said. “Everyone likes you. He’d be crazy not to go after you if he had the chance.”

    Mabel smiled and rolled her eyes. “There’s my bro-bro,” she said, “never underestimating the power of my feminine wiles.” They both laughed as they crossed the street. The Mystery Shack was on the opposite hemisphere of the woods that the magic show had been on.

      Mabel gasped as Dipper heard a ripping sound from behind him. Thinking she had torn her dress or something, he whirled around, only to find her smiling and forcibly pressing a flyer to his chest. “Look, look, look! It’s a flyer for that magician’s show as an assistant!” Dipper took the flyer as Mabel bounced up and down in front of him. The flyer was presumably handwritten in neat, tidy print:

**H E L P  W A N T E D**

MAGICIAN’S ASSISTANT FOR HIRE, APPLICANTS MUST BE IN GOOD PHYSICAL CONDITION AND WILLING TO PARTICIPATE IN POSSIBLY DANGEROUS STUNTS AND ACTS

INTERVIEWS WILL BE RUNNING FROM 10:30 A.M. TO 11:30 A.M. ON SATURDAY, JUNE 5TH AT 354 TREMBLY WAY (THE PATH INTO THE WOODS) FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED

 

    “Don’t tell me you’re going to apply to that weirdo’s show?” Dipper asked, looking up at his sister.

    “Of course not, silly!” she said. “ _You are_!”

    Dipper shook his head at her, giving her the yellow paper. “Sorry Mabel, but I don’t help frauds. And besides, Grunkle Stan would kill me.”

    “But Stan is a fraud!” Mabel protested, folding the paper into a tiny square and stuffing it into his jacket pocket. “And you helped him! Besides, I want you to spy on him to see if he’s single and looking!”

       “One: Stan is family,” Dipper said, beginning to walk away, knowing Mabel was already following. “Two: we are also living with Stan and I don't want to screw up so bad that he hates me for the rest of the summer. Three: I won’t work for that creep just because you’ve got a crush on him. You don’t even know anything about him, Mabel, for all we know he could be a murderer!” “Don’t joke about that, Dipper! C’mon, pleaaaase do this one little thing for me?”

      “No, Mabel, final answer.” Mabel pouted the whole way home, all through the rest of the work day, and all through the night. She was perfectly friendly to everyone else- the handyman, Soos, and the cashier Wendy- but she seemed determined not to talk to Dipper any more than was necessary. He knew she was just being dramatic because he wouldn’t take that job, and that it would blow over eventually, but it still stung a little.

      When Dipper had gone to his room for the night, (Considering the twins were 20 years old, they had convinced Stan to open up a separate room for Dipper so that he didn’t have to sleep in the attic with Mabel) he glanced at his brown jacket, which hung in the closet. A corner of the folded flyer poked out of the pocket. He took the yellowing paper and unfolded it, scanning the near-perfect handwriting once more. His untidy scrawl was nothing compared to this. He then came to a realization. If he did this, not only would it make Mabel happy, but it would also give him enough time to gather evidence to prove that all of Cipher’s tricks were fake (what kind of last name was that, anyway?). He could even turn it into a project for his journalism class when college started back up in August. And his parents might even begin to respect his choice of career (they had wanted him to be a mathematician- maybe even a college professor). If it made Stan mad, then he could give up some of his paycheck and claim it as an added income, as he had little use for his own money. All of the pieces were falling into place perfectly. He took a pen and marked the date on his calendar.

     In two days, he was going to an interview.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my co-author that originally created the idea of this story has decided to leave in writing Indigo Dreams. But don't fret, I will continue the story myself. I had originally thought I could post every two weeks, but no working on my own, that may vary time to time. Due to other projects and the school year approaching, I can't always guarantee that I'll always make a chapter on time. I apologize for that, but I will do my best!  
> Also, I greatly appreciate all your comments and feed back. And for that one commenter that found the format a little distracting, I will edit the first chapter in time. If anyone else has the same problem please do tell me, I can easily change it if you want me to do so.  
> But, I digress, please enjoy chapter two.

\----------

_I’ve never thought I’d get so nervous over something so simple as an interview. I’ve only been hired by my Grunkle Stan since I first started working, and the only spectacular thing about that experience is that Stan said a quick “you’re hired” and slapped a ‘kick me’ sign on my back before sending me to work. I didn’t notice it until Wendy had said something about it halfway through the day. I’m 90 percent sure that Mabel gave him that idea._

\----------

Chapter 2

                      Dipper nervously glanced around the small room, his gaze constantly drawn to the gold-tipped shoes propped up on the table in front of him. While a harsh light shone upon him, Bill was shrouded in darkness on the other side of the table. Dipper could only tell it was him because he had said ‘Sit down’ in that annoying, grating voice when Dipper had walked into the yellow tent.

        The interviewee before Dipper had come out shivering, eye twitching. She had been muttering something about ‘the cruelty of time’ as well, and Dipper had taken it as a bad sign- whether that sign was that only weirdos were applying for this job or that Bill had evidently done something to the poor woman he wasn’t sure. He had come in at about 11:15, just as the woman had finished. A long argument with Stan, as well as several enthusiastic hugs from Mabel, had held him back a bit.

        Surprisingly, there had been a very limited application process. When he had arrived, the same boy that had given him and Mabel their tickets had simply told him to sit and wait. And now, he was placed across from whom he hoped would be his new boss soon.

        “So,” Bill said, Dipper’s attention snapping to the darkness that he hid in, trying to find eyes to look back at. “The non-believer has come here for a _job_?”

        It took Dipper a few seconds to realize that this was supposed to be a question. “U-um, yes, I’d like a job,” he managed. Wow, smooth. He stuttered on a freaking noise, _that wasn’t even a word-_

        “Fine,” Bill said. “If you impress me I might actually consider letting you see my…” he sighed and lowered his feet, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “Look,” he said, massaging his temples. He had given up the suit for a simple white collared shirt and suspenders. “After all of those irritating idio- really bad applicants, I’m kinda getting sick of the whole ‘hide in the dark and give a foreboding speech’ act. So how about you and I just get this over with, because I’m sure you have some unfulfilled and boring life to get back to and so do I.”

       Dipper was a bit taken aback by this. Bill had seemed so cool and collected up until now, and currently his smooth voice and composure had dropped to something much rougher, like a forgotten school project pulled together last minute. The man before him was not the man he had seen on stage yesterday- someone snappily dressed, stroking his own ego and basking in the glory of the crowd. This man had dark circles under his brown eyes, messy I-just-got-out-of-bed-and-now-I’m-peeved-at-everything hair, and a near permanent look of irritation plastered onto his features.

        It was intimidating, to say the least.

   “Okay, so here’s a question- do you believe in magic?” Bill asked, resting his chin on long, laced fingers.

   “No,” Dipper replied before he could stop himself.

   “Great,” Bill said, a thin smile coming to his face. “You can be my pet project.”

   Dipper fought the urge to snap back or roll his eyes at Bill. He was here to get a job, and he couldn’t ruin his chances now. He had planned everything out, after all.

   “Hmmm,” Bill continued, narrowing his eyes. “How old do you think I am?”

         Dipper opened and closed his mouth. Well that was certainly unexpected. He definitely didn’t want to screw this up by insulting Bill, but he didn’t want to look like a suck-up either. “Um, I-I’d say… late-twenties or early thirties?” he guessed.

         This enticed a laugh from Bill, causing Dipper to wince. He’d really screwed up, hadn’t he? “Wow, and my mother keeps telling me the years haven’t done a thing!” the older man said, slowly shaking his head. “I’m twenty one, actually.”

     “Oh- Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

     “Relax,” Bill said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s no big deal. That last girl thought I was in my forties. Father time seems to dislike me for some reason.”

     “Oh, yeah… right.”

        “But you, kid, have received fair treatment from age. You’re…” Bill massaged his temples again. “Twenty, right?” Dipper only nodded. “Let’s see… five-foot-seven, and weigh… one hundred forty two pounds, three ounces?”

     “Y-yes,” Dipper stuttered, astonished at the accuracy of the information.

        Bill smirked in response, “Ah, well looks like Father Time was kind enough to at least spare my specialty.” he snapped back into the serious tone of the situation, holding out his hand to the boy for the manila folder he held. “Does this have your information, kid?”

        He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “It’s just medical stuff a-and a bit of background.” Dipper quietly cursed at himself for acting so childish in front of Bill. He tried swallowing the lump in the back of his throat.

       Bill nodded as he casually flipped through the papers in the folder. He pursed his lips in interest as he scanned over the information. Straight A high school graduate, just applied to college, no record of criminal activity, etc. It all looked pretty good. Except one thing-

        “Alright, I think you could be a very good choice. You have a good head on your shoulders, fit, and could very well appeal to the audience… But there’s one thing. You seem skittish. I need a person that can get up in front of a crowd, take chances and- you know, brave.” Bill tossed the folder to the middle of the table and leaned forward onto his elbows.

     Dipper scoffed at his comment, “I _am_ brave! I’m just not used to environments like these, and I’m not used to being around you yet.”

     Bill raised his eyebrows and chuckled softly before throwing his back against the chair and bursting with laughter, “Hahah! Yes, that’s what I wanted!”, he clapped his hands together and grinned.

      The boy blinked in surprise. “Wait, what?”

      “Alright,” Bill ignored his question, ”thank you for coming in. I’ll get back to you to tell you you got the job or not.”

      “Wait, hold o-” Bill snapped his fingers and Dipper felt himself stand up. It was like he wasn't controlling his own limbs, but that couldn't be possible. Right?

      Bill was already picking the folder off of the table and pushing in his chair. Seeing no other options, Dipper shut his open mouth and left the tent.

 

 

\----------

_‘Skittish’? I’m not skittish, right?_

\----------

                     Dipper waited. And he waited. One day passed by, without any word from Bill about the job. He'd taken the long walk to the edge of the forest, where the Mystery Shack mailbox was, only to find a pile of junk mail and nothing from the magician.

        The next day yielded no results, nor did the next. The fourth day held a colorful letter from one of Mabel’s friends back in Piedmont, and the fifth was blank once more. On the sixth day, Dipper given up, thinking that he had been skipped over for the job. After all, in Bill’s eyes he was too ‘skittish’ to get up on a stage. However, on the seventh day, Wendy came into the shack with an off-white envelope in her hand.

    “Hey Dipper,” she said.

    “O-oh, hey Wendy!” Dipper said quickly, turning away from the merchandise that he was stacking, trying (and failing) not to look awkward. Wendy was so… cool. Standing there in her pretty green dress, brown sunhat on her firey orange hair.

     “There was this letter in the mail with your name on it. No return address though.” She handed him the envelope with a soft smile. “Hope it's not some creepy love letter from a stalker or something.” With that, she turned and walked away, black shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. Dipper sighed as he looked down at the envelope. He had been so distracted by the pretty girl that he hadn't realized what receiving the envelope meant.

        He carefully peeled away at the glue seal. The letter inside was written on aged and yellowed paper with crispy brown corners.

_Dear Mr. Pines, Though your acute disbelief in magic, as well as your nervous behavior, were red flags, you were also the least idiotic of all the red-necked imbeciles to apply for the job. So you got it. Go you. Be at the tent tomorrow, 7:00 am sharp. We have some practicing to do._

        Dipper was ecstatic at the news. He rushed over to Mabel, who was dusting various knick knacks positioned on a shelf. “Hey Mabel, you’ll never believe what letter I just got!” he said in an excited squeal. Mabel turned, a curious smile plastered on her face, and took the letter, before reading it aloud. “...be at the TENT TOMORROW DIPPER YOU GOT THE JOB?!” Mabel hugged him with force, nearly tackling him to the ground as she squealed happily. Several customers shot them annoyed looks. “I know, right?” Dipper replied as she bounced away from him, knocking a keychain off of its respective rack.

     “And now I can finally expo- I mean, get you the guy of your dreams!” Thankfully, Mabel was too happy to notice his sudden change of speech.

     “I’M GONNA GET A HOT BOY-FRIEND!” She shout-chanted joyously, pumping her arms into the air.

     “Mabel quit, you’re drawing atten-!”

     “I'M GONNA GET A HOT BOY-FRIEND! I’M GONNA GET A HOT BOY-FRIEND!”

 

\----------

_Stan got a few complaints from the customers, but Mabel managed to weasel her way out a punishment with her puppy eyes. I was put on goat duty for the rest of the day. Why do we even have a goat?_

\----------

 

_“Look for the silver lining, Whenever a cloud appears in the blue. Remember, somewhere the sun is shining, And so the right thing to do is make it shine for you!”_

       Dipper had been directed to the tent by an employee upon arriving, but the boy hadn't expected Bill to be _singing_ , of all things. It went along with a piano that, upon further investigation by Dipper, was being played by Bill as well. To be honest, Dipper hadn't expected the magician to be that skillful outside of fooling the eye and swindling gullible crowds. His singing voice was actually very good, especially considering his grating speaking voice. He was very into it, twisting notes in the most beautiful way with his throat as he passionately but skillfully maneuvered the keys. Various chords upon chords created a wonderful harmony to the melody of the song. Bill kept his eyes shut as he tapped the keys and sang along, swaying in beat.

      Dipper stood in the entrance to the tent, unsure of what to do. Bill kept playing and singing his song. The boy hadn't expected this event, and knew not whether to interrupt or wait until the song was over.

      Bill stopped suddenly, ending on a discordant note, possibly a wrong black or white key in the chord. He turned towards Dipper and blinked in surprise before his alarmed expression faded into a delighted smile. “Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder if you had the guts to show up today.”

    Dipper frowned and huffed in agitation. _How did he know I was here?_ “I’m glad you have faith in me,” he said, his voice full of sarcasm, “But, thanks for the job.”

    “Don't mention it, kid!” Bill stood up from the bench, hopped off of the stage, and strode down the aisle towards Dipper. He had cleaned up a bit since the last time Dipper had seen him. He looked well rested, had combed his hair, and was wearing a dressy yellow vest over his white shirt. “I’ve got an assignment for you.”

    Dipper couldn't help wondering in anticipation as to what his first task would entail. After all, the magician certainly seemed eccentric (with all of the yellow and the shapes even the black piano had yellow triangles carved onto the legs in an intricate design), so whatever he needed done must be interesting. “Just tell me what to do!” Dipper said anxiously.

    Bill smiled and snapped his fingers, summoning a mop and bucket with a cloud of cyan smoke. He tossed the damp mop to Dipper with a laugh as the boy fumbled to catch it. “There’s a trailer out back, go ahead and clean up,” the magician sneered.

    Dipper grimaced and frowned at the man. “You’re serious? That’s what you want me to do?”

    Bill flashed a grin and placed his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side, “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

       He moaned in response, spun on his heels, and made his way to the back of the tent. “I can’t believe I’m this guy’s janitor,” Dipper grumbled. “It’s bad enough that I’m basically the goat keeper at the Shack, but now this.” He made his way to the back of the tent, to the old trailer. The windows were covered from the inside with red velvet curtains, the trailer itself was covered with chipping white and yellow paint. _What a wreck_ , Dipper thought, rolling his eyes as he made his way to the metal door. _It’s hard to believe he lives in this thing, considering he charges an arm and a leg to see his crappy show. At least I’ll get a chance to investigate_. He winced as his hand closed around the doorknob, which had been heated in the summer sun.

      The inside of the trailer was dark and dusty, cluttered with endless trinkets, strange devices, and books. Dipper coughed as he stepped inside- the warm air was practically suffocating him. He had no idea how he’d clean around all of this stuff. Still, he had the investigation of the small space to keep him busy.

      Dipper discarded the bucket and mop, propping it up against the wall. He flicked on the small desk light, painting the small trailer with a dim yellow glow. First order of business, the shelf of books. He maneuvered around a cloth-covered furnishing to the dusty mahogany shelf. The piles of dust had been recently disturbed, as it was covered in fingerprints. It seemed that it restated its claim on the shelves regularly. The boy pulled a random book out, choosing a green hard-back emblazoned with a strange symbol.

      Dipper opened the tomb, sending a cloud of dust towards his face. He coughed as he skimmed the worn pages, the pungent smell of old mildew drifting up to him. The pages were covered in strange symbols, interjected by the occasional illustration. _Maybe this guy’s just insane_ , He thought, replacing the book and pulling out a red one with a triangle emblem on the front. He opened it to find the same type of material. Frustration began to build up as he searched through the rest of the books, finding nothing but more gibberish. After about eleven books, he discovered a leather-bound book written in English. Upon opening the first page, he discovered the title _Quantum Physics for Dummies_ with Bill’s full name written beneath it. _William Revere Cipher_. Wait a second, that didn’t sound like a name. Dipper decided he’d look it up in a dictionary or something later before putting the book back. He rooted through some more nonsensical books before leaving the bookshelf all together.

 _Okay_ , Dipper thought, looking at his watch.  _I've spent about six minutes over there. Better get to mopping_. Dipper picked up the mop and dunked it into the soapy bucket of water. Carefully, he maneuvered around everything as he cleaned the floor off. He bumped into stacks of trinkets more than once. As he took a step towards the gaudy velvet love-seat his foot caught on one of the thin white sheets. He tripped with a loud _thump_ on the hardwood floor, the abandoned mop clattering down behind him. The boy turned his head to look at what the sheet had been covering.

      His jaw dropped. Balanced on a small wheeled night-stand was a shining statue, like a morbid golden monument. A ring of fire, eyes, and reaching talons surrounded a pyramid, and the whole ensemble sat atop a golden pedestal. Several triangular light prisms surrounded the statue, redirecting the light of the desk lamp to shine upon it. Dipper stood shakily and picked up the sheet, covering the unsettling sight once more.

    He decided that snooping around any more wouldn’t be wise for today. Either way, he had already come to the conclusion that Bill was either absolutely insane or some kind of sick sadist. Either way, he figured that his new job was much more deadly than he had given it credit for.

    After Dipper finished mopping the floor of the trailer, he took the mop and bucket to take back to the tent. The outside air, through still very hot, was a welcome change from the trailer. He suddenly realized how sweaty he was in his dark blue shirt. Hoping that wouldn’t upset Bill, he walked through the grass to the large yellow tent.

     Bill was walking out as Dipper was making to head in. “Oh, there you are,” Bill said, neck craning around the large box of equipment in his hands. “What took you so long, kid? Wait, you know what, I don’t care, just go put those down and grab a box.”

     Dipper did as he was told, walking inside the tent and placing the cleaning supplies by the equipment. He picked up the smallest of the gathered boxes and took it outside.

 

\-----

_Something about this didn’t sit right from the start, but at that point I was pretty sure he was going to use me in some sort of sacrifice to the devil or something. The statue in his trailer was very odd to say nonetheless. I’ll have to do more research on this, see if the statue is apart of some sort of cult or satanic ritual. Just what is this guy up to?_

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. Constructive criticism is encouraged and appreciated. If you wish to create any fan art please give credit. It is EXTREMELY appreciated and I will personally give a shout out to anyone who does. Really, if someone makes fan art, I'd probably die of a heart attack. 
> 
> Under new management: Falling Star 
> 
> Thank you for reading


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Good news everyone! My co-writer as decided to help somewhat with the writing but is mainly an editor now.   
> I also wanted to apologize taking longer than my set goal, I'll try harder this time to stay on schedule.  
> Anyways, enjoy Chapter three!

_                                                                                       ------------------------ _

_ Update on Bill’s freaky statue in his trailer: there.. was no information on it. I scavenged through the whole library just to find some sort of clue to what this could be. I asked the Librarian where to find books on occults and she gave me a disturbed look before hesitantly pointing me to a section in the library that was filled with mythology. I spent four hours there until they told me to leave...  _

_                                                                                       ------------------------- _

 

Chapter 3

 

 

_                       A sea of clovers, rising and crashing far into the horizon. The noon sun painted the moor in golden light as a gentle breeze swept over the landscape. Dipper lay on the ground, facing up at the moving sky as he peered out of the overgrowth. He shut his eyes and let himself bathe in the warming sunlight. Moments later, the sound of crackling thunder sliced through the air. The sun disappeared, hidden by dark and ominous clouds rolling in from the east. He sat up and scanned his surroundings, a spear of electricity exploding onto the ground just feet from where he lay. The clovers turned to soot in its wake, smoke starting to drifting off of the charred plants.  _

_       The world shifted into a gray and ashen palette. The ground beneath his feet outlined a triangle shape from where the lightning had struck the ground, forming red burning embers, an eye within its form looking up at Dipper. The smell of sulfur drifted through the air. Rushing wind swarmed around him as a monstrous, sickly colored sea creature rose from the curve of the earth and far into the darkened sky. Its head decorated with three rays lined with shorter tentacles on both sides, and a tail that merged with its plump body like a tadpole’s. Dipper had been so fixated on the creature that he hadn’t realized that now he was floating in the depths of the sea, beams of moonlight barely passing through the water and onto the creature’s features. The weight of the water made his body feel like lead.  _

_     It's cold and blank eyes stared at him as it opened its mouth. Its deep and thundering voice made the water that engulfed him vibrate violently as it spoke.  _

_    "Alk’q qorpq yroo xrksv.”    _

_       A high pitched manic laughter rung in his ears as eyes appeared from the darkness of the sea around him, dark black slits floating in orbs of bright yellow. Dipper felt a stab of panic, not only from the unblinking eyes staring at him and growing louder as each moment passed, but from the sensation of suffocation. He quickly tried to swim up to the surface, only to panic more as his vision blurred, unsure if there even was a surface to the endless ocean. _

_     Finally, as he could no longer hold his breath and he fell unbelievably tired, Dipper let his body go limp and the indigo water consumed his lungs. Laughter rang through his ears, the now blurry eyes contrasted against the black sea the last thing he saw before he slipped into a deep slumber. _

      Dipper jolted awake, gasping for air. Sweat clung to his frame and plastered his bangs to his forehead. He sat up and wiped the moisture from his face as his breath started to level out again. Sometimes he had the tendency to stop breathing during his sleep. He’d probably have to do something about it soon. “Okay, no more sugar before bed.”, Dipper murmured to himself under his breath.    

    He looked over to his clock that sat on the bedside table, reading that it was 4:37. Dipper huffed and flopped back onto the mattress, frowning up at the wooden ceiling.

\-------------------------------------------------

 

        “Ever heard of the water tank trick kid?” 

    Dipper swallowed hard. “Y-yeah, of course.” 

    The display before him had chains draped at the base of a huge tank. The frame of the man-sized glass box was decorated with more colorful triangles- red, navy blue, and yellow in a pattern. Bill snapped his fingers, and the tank filled with water. 

    “This requires a lot of trust between both performers,” Bill said, not sparing him a glance, his arms folded neatly behind him as he gazed at the tank. “We have until the end of June to perfect this trick.”

    “The end of June? That only gives us three and a half weeks!” Dipper blurted out, astonishment washed over his features.

      Bill turned to his head towards the boy, who was standing next to him, and flashed a wide grin. “That’s why I’m taking you to dinner tonight. So clear your calendar.” He spun on the balls of his feet and stepped down from the stage in long strides, making his way down the dimly lit pathway between the rows of chairs. 

      Shock adorned his face as Dipper swiftly jumped down the stage after him, “Hey, whoa, wait! Dinner? Why are we going out to dinner?” He caught up to the man, flailing his arms about in an anxious manner.

      Bill lightly dipped his head towards him as he followed in tow, “So we can get to know each other. I already told you this.” He strode out of the tent’s entrance and walked in the direction of the small trailer. 

    Dipper huffed in agitation, “Yeah, I know, but how would that help anything? A few hours after work? I already spend half the day here as it is.”

      “I have something I have to ask of you, a proposition if you will, that’s why.” Bill climbed up onto the steps attached to the trailer and shoved the key into the lock. He began to open it, standing in the doorway. 

    “Why can’t you tell me now?”

      “Well that wouldn’t be as dramatic now would it?”, he held on the doorknob, letting his body hang dangerously as his free hand waved about in a dismissive gesture,   “Taking you on a date will make you think that what is being proposed is important. That’s what psychology is about, Dipper.” He slammed the door shut behind him as he finished his statement.

    “A date? This is not a date!”, Dipper shouted defensively. He glared into the windows covered with velvet curtains. “Do you hear me?!” 

      Bill poked his head through the fabric and mocked him, moving his hand as if it was talking. He smirked down at the boy, childishly sticking his tongue out and flashing a devious smile before retreating back into the trailer. Dipper kicked a pebble at the trailer in frustration, watching it bounce off the painted metal wall. He huffed and stalked away back into the yellow tent.

     Dipper sat down in one of the foldable chairs lined up in rows around the small wooden stage at the front. He huffed once again and dug inside a pocket on the inside of his heavy brown jacket, retrieving a thick paperback novel. 

   “Oh, so you’re his assistant?”, a boy with a heavy country accent chirped behind him. Dipper turned to address the man calling to him; it was the boy that had given his sister and him their tickets. The boy wore a dark undershirt covered by a grey vest, and there was a small white handkerchief peeking out of the pocket on the breast of his shirt. More peculiar, he wore a long draping piece of cloth over his shoulders reaching down to his ankles. Dipper was confused by the boys contradicting clothing style and accent. He seemed to be somewhere from the South, but dressed something from a children’s superhero show.

  “Uh, yeah. I’d say I’m more like his _ janitor _ than anything.” Dipper said sarcastically, cramming his bookmark into the crease of the book and placing it back into the pocket.

  The boy chuckled a bit. “Yeah we all start like that. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

    “Yeah, go ahead.” Dipper’s eyes followed him as he sat down in the other chair over, leaving an empty seat in the middle of them.

    “Well, uh, hello there!”, the boy grinned widely and raised his hand in a friendly manner. “Nice to meet ya’!” he said, offering his hand to Dipper.

       Dipper smiled a bit, taking his hand and sharply shaking it twice. “Nice to meet you too.”  _ He seems nice enough,  _ Dipper thought to himself _. Better first impression than Bill. Why would this guy want to work for someone like him? _

    “Name’s Krag. Or Kryptos, as Bill likes to call me. He gives everyone silly nicknames like that. 

    “Kryptos? That sounds a bit outlandish.. But, I’m Dipper.”

    Kryptos shrugged and smiled sheepishly, “No one really knows what things run through the boss’ head.”

      Dipper smiled and leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the stage in front of him. “You know,” he said, “this whole thing seems a bit theatrical, even for a magician. I mean, smoke bombs? That’s really cliche, and pretty expensive looking.” He glanced back at Kryptos, who was wearing a suspiciously surprised look on his face. The boy quickly smiled and leaned forward, crossing his arms over the back chair in front of him.

      “That’s just how the Boss is,” he said, eyes sparkling up at the stage. “Always so flashy and bright. Isn’t he  _ amazing?! _ ” Dipper jumped a bit at the increased volume in Kryptos’ last comment. The boy was gleaming at him with bright grey eyes, expecting a response. 

    “Uh, yeah,” Dipper managed. “He’s… certainly something.” He felt sorry for Kryptos, the innocent boy must not have any knowledge of Bill’s darker side. Kryptos continued to gaze at the stage.

    “Someday,” Kryptos said, “I’m gonna be just like the Boss, ya’ know? That’s why I’m wearing this cape, because that’s a magician thing, I think. Too bad the Boss doesn’t share his secrets, huh?”

    “Yeah,” Dipper said, trying to act somewhat convincing. 

     Kryptos awkwardly cleared his throat and sat up right, “Uh, sorry for chatting your ear off. I’ll leave you be now.”, he said as he stood up, wiping the lint and dirt that collected on his black dress pants before smiling, waving to the other boy, and walking off. 

      “No, it’s fine. Nice meeting you.” Dipper replied as Kryptos made his way out of the tent. Dipper noticed a triangle plastered over the opening of the magician’s tent as he watched Kryptos leave.  _ Man, this guy really likes triangles for some reason. They’re  _ everywhere _!  _

    Dipper brushed it off as some kind of Bill’s crazy phantasms as he fished the book out of his pocket and flipped through it. 

 

                                                               ------------------------------ 

_ Although Kryptos seemed very kind and naive, I can’t help to have an eerie feeling about him. Not sure why, but perhaps it’s because it seems like he worships Bill and idolizes him -the biggest scam-artist- and I’d even say Bill’s a better scam-artist than Stan.   _

_    Everything about this place feels off.. _

_                                                                -------------------------------- _

 

 

__ Dipper could tell Stan wasn’t liking this new job. 

       As Dipper was opening the door to meet up with Bill (begrudgingly), Stan had caught him and slammed his hand onto the doorway, leaning in front of him and blocking the pathway. 

      “Where’re you goin’ squirt? Did you finally catch a girl you like?” Stan said with his deep and gravelly voice, one that made him sound like he smoked a pack of cigars everyday. 

     “No.” Dipper stated simply, folding his arms in front of him. “C’mon Grunkle Stan, can we make this charade fast?”

    “Hey, woah there kid, slow down. What’s going on here? Where are you going?”, his large gray eyebrows sank down into his eyes. 

    “I’m just going to meet with my boss to discuss some things.” He said, beginning to sound irritated as he gestured his hands about.

       Stan huffed and massaged the bridge of his nose, “Alright kid. Just don’t become a workaholic and forget to talk to your family.”He patted Dipper’s shoulder roughly. “Also, since you’re spending so much time at this new job I’m gonna cut your paycheck ten more dollars.” Stan left the narrow entrance way before Dipper could retort, not that anything he’d say would change that greedy man’s mind anyway. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head, leaving the Shack with a foreboding sense that this wasn’t going to go well. 

 

\------------------------------

 

                      Bill had given him an address to a diner Dipper had never heard of before in a remote part of the next town over. Dipper’s stomach churned at the sketchy situation he’d gotten himself into. He rethought if  he should’ve even came, but he was already in the parking lot, which would be better described as a singular parking spot in front of the small building. Two other cars were parked around the corner where Dipper had pulled in. He assumed one of them was Bill’s and the other’s an employee, doubting that this place got too much business out here. 

     Dipper climbed his way out of the car, the old wooden door at the diner groaning as its hinges worked open. A rush of cool air hit his face and yellow light consumed the small building. To his surprise, the restaurant was bustling with activity and the building looked five times bigger on the inside than the outside. Dipper furrowed his eyes in confusion. Almost immediately when he walked through the door he was spotted by greeter at the front of the door standing behind a counter. The man grinned widely and rushed over to him, “Ah, you must be Mr. Pines, correct?” Dipper nodded quietly in response. “Come with me then sir.”

      The greeter lead him to a back room excluded from the rest of the diner area. The fragrant, mixed scents of seasoned fish and a variety of other meats made him feel light-headed. Dipper grew more and more nervous as he scanned his surroundings,  _ This isn’t natural. There’s no way this place is this big.  _

      Bill sat in the back of the room only occupied by two other empty tables. He had a smirk plastered on his face as he rested his chin in his twined fingers. The greeter solemnly bowed before rushing off again, grinning stupidly like he just met a celebrity.

    Dipper wore a permanent look of suspicion on his face, “What is this all about? I thought we were just going to go to a greasy restaurant with poor service! And how does this even work? I only saw two cars in the par-”

    “-Don’t you ever stop babbling? Calm down, kid.” Bill gave a calming gesture and sat up right. “You didn’t even greet me yet. That’s just bad manners.” He smirked mischievously, voice smooth and silky.

    Dipper frowned and groaned quietly. “Hi.”, he mumbled bitterly.

    “Why hello there!” Bill said, fluttering his eyelashes mockingly. 

      Dipper huffed, his stupid grin made him even more annoyed. “What did you want to ‘propose’?” Dipper said, eager to get right to the point. He wanted to make this quick as possible. He could barely stand dealing with Bill at work, and now he was taking time out of Dipper’s spare time. Bill was unbelievably frustrating.

      “As I hope you know, we have to perform the tank trick before the first month is over,” Bill explained. “Otherwise, our audience will get bored of the same routine each time, since this is such a small town and most of the citizens have already seen the show.” Bill took a swig from a glass of red wine before proceeding. “Anyways, I wanted to propose that we should take time out and explore the forest for a few days. To bond.” A slow grin crept over his features as he finished. It only grew wider as exasperation and surprise took over Dipper’s face.    


    Dipper clamped his fingers on the bridge of his nose. “Wait, let me get this clear, you want to go camping?  Shouldn’t we- I don’t know- actually practice doing the damn trick!?” This was unbelievable. He wanted to dick around in the wood instead of practicing?  _ Okay I take that back, this guy isn’t insane, he’s just a moron! _

    Bill placed his hands up defensively, chuckling under his breath, “Hey, calm down kid. Hear me out. We have to trust each other for this. We can’t just practice, kid, one of us will die, via either drowning or strangulation- from your sister.” Bill said, tugging slightly at the collar of his shirt, for cheezy emphasis, Dipper guessed. 

   Dipper sighed quietly. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But why do we have to go camping? Couldn’t we do those stupid team building exercises, like trust fall or whatever?”

      Bill sneered, “Tch, do you really those things work?” Dipper silently shrugged his shoulders in response. He glanced down at the tri-folded menu, decorated simply with white spirals against the black across the cover. The words  _ Magik Cabin  _ and  _ Menu  _ sat directly under one another in squiggly calligraphy. Dipper peeled back the front and scanned over its contents.  _ There’s a lot of meats. . . This place sure isn’t vegetarian- friendly, is it? _

    As he peered over the options, Dipper caught movement in the corner of his eye. Bill had the bottle of red wine outreached. Bill shook the dark green glass he was offering side to side, the dark liquid swishing around inside. It was already half empty too. 

    “Eh, no, I can't really drink yet,” Dipper said waving the bottle away before returning his attention to the menu.

    Bill recaptured him again, pushing Dipper’s menu down, “Who is going to know? I’m no tattler.”

    “My family. I can’t show up with booze on my breath.” Dipper yanked the menu from under his hand and held it closer to his chest. 

    Bill let out an annoyed sigh and mumbled to himself, pouring more wine into his own glass. “Buzz kill.”

      A female waiter arrived after a few silent moments later, grinning so widely that Dipper imagined it had to hurt. She politely asked for their orders, swifty writing it down on her miniature notepad as they gave them to her (Bill first, Dipper nervously second). She made extreme care that she got the correct orders, repeating what she had written on her notepad several times. The waitress then quickly disappeared again out of the excluded room.

    “Do you have any idea what is going on with the employees? They seem happy. A little  _ too _ happy than usual to bust tables, I mean,” Dipper said in a hushed whisper as the waitress left.

      Bill shrugged and gave a sheepish smile, “I don’t know. Not that I’m complaining, and neither should you. Would you rather have poor service?” He took another gulp from his wine. “I mean, that was the first thing you said when you got here, so I suppose you would.” 

      “All I’m saying is that I’m not really used to fancy environments like these. I bet there’s even a place they do swing night and everything. . .” Dipper said, trying to peer around the corner of the wall in search of a dance room.  _ I mean, if this place is this big on the inside I’m sure they can at least fit a small dancing area somewhere. _ “Speaking of, how the hell is there so much space in here? From the outside it looked like it was the size of an apartment room!”

    “You sure are a curious one aren’t you, kid?” Bill gave him a look like he was a lost, confused puppy. “Magic- to put it simply- and architecture, which may as well be magic itself.” 

    “One, could you not call me ‘kid’? We’re only like a year apart. Two, magic isn’t real. Is this like some sort of optical illusion?” Dipper asked, half to himself, as he brushed his hand over the burnt shaded beige paint on the wall.

      Bill slightly snorted at his comment, placing his elbow on the table and covering his mouth to prevent himself from bursting out with laughter, his shoulders bouncing periodically. He sighed heavily, “Oh boy that was a good one! ‘Magic isn’t real,’ he says!” Bill let his cheek lay inside his palm as he grinned deviously at Dipper. “You really are something, kid. You just don’t understand.” 

      Dipper’s eyebrows creased with annoyance and frustration as he scanned over Bill’s amused features, his jaw slightly agape in confusion. “What are you talking about?” Their conversation was interrupted as the waitress placed their dishes in front of them, Dipper jumping from the sudden appearance of the waitress as she placed his steak in front of him. He glanced up at her and smiled before looking over at Bill, his harsh stare saying ‘ _ we’re not done with this yet’. _  Bill simply smiled and waved to him with his fingers, making Dipper frown more and look back up at the waitress, who was setting down Bill’s lobster in front of him.  Dipper quickly thanked her before she ran off again, Bill was too busy already cutting into the lobster’s flesh that he didn’t even notice that the girl even left. 

    Dipper watched as Bill took large chunks of the lobster and managed to shove it into his mouth.  _ And he talks about me having bad manners. . . _ Dipper eventually tore his eyes away from him and cut into his own food. His knife cracked through something from inside the steak. Dipper removed the meat around the foreign object hearing slight pops as he prod around the steak. Stuffed inside of the steak was a rounded white object. Dipper scraped away the food hiding the mysterious item, discovering, much to his dismay, that it wasn’t just a bone like he had guessed, but a tooth. 

   Dipper dropped his fork on the table, generating a clanking sound as it crashed into the painted ceramic plate. He had to cover his mouth to keep the vomit that dared to creep up his throat down. Bill had looked up from gorging himself and noticed the tooth that laid on the other’s plate. He chuckled a bit, “Oh, what a wonderful surprise. It’s a deer tooth.”

    Dipper was mortified by how calm Bill looked and sounded compared to his own state, which may have soon become an unconscious one. He didn’t even look in slightest bit disgusted! 

    “You know, if you bring that back to the counter in the front you can win a prize,” Bill said as he wiped away any remnants of the lobster off of his face, though there was a surprisingly small amount of food on his skin. Dipper shook his head rapidly. “Whatever it is, I don’t want it!”

    Bill only grinned and took the deer tooth from Dipper’s plate, stuffing it into his pocket. Dipper pushed the dish as far away from him as possible. “Why are those things even in the food?! Someone can choke!”

    “Pft, no, you’ll know if you have one in your food. It leaves such a god awful taste in the meat, you don’t even know. More occasions than not the person rushes to the bathroom until the place closes.”

       Dipper’s face grew even more green at the information, his mind subconsciously creating the taste of rotting meat in his mouth. “Yeah, that’s good to know”, he murmured as he stared at the slab of steak, gagging.  _ This makes me want to be a vegetarian.  _ Bill chuckled quietly as he returned to eating his food. Dipper, no longer having an appetite, decided to pull out his book from his jacket pocket and began to read, hoping he'd forget what just happen, at least for a moment.

    As Bill finished his food he glanced up at the younger man. He noticed the same pine tree brooch pinned to his jacket. “Pinetree. . .” he hummed lowly. “I like that. It has a nice ring to it.”

    Dipper lowered his book, “What are you talking about?”

    “A nickname. Yours is Pinetree now.”

    “That’s ridiculous. Do you know how many strange looks I’d get if you call me that in public?”

    “I get strange looks anyway. You get used to it after some time. I think it’ll be a great stage name!”

    Dipper huffed. He was exhausted, and he didn’t want to argue anymore. All he wanted was to read his book. “Okay, whatever.” Bill beamed brightly, making Dipper playfully roll his eyes back at him.

      When Bill brought the tooth up to the counter, they pulled a slip of paper from an old burlap sack and promptly gave him his prize: windchimes. Bill was absolutely ecstatic, smiling excitedly and examining its metal rods. Dipper couldn’t help letting a small smile form across his mouth.  _ He gets excited easily.  _ Dipper commented to himself,  _ And apparently he really likes windchimes. Who would’ve thought. _

      As Dipper drove home, he could feel the weight of his eye-lids growing heavier the closer he got to the Shack. He glanced down at his wrist-watch, barely able to process the information given by the ticking arms of the face. It was almost midnight. Stan would either be waiting in the living room to scold him and cut even more pay from this week’s paycheck, or he’d be sound asleep and forget to get up to see what time Dipper got home. Dipper hoped it was the second scenario. He’d be almost broke if any more money was taken off of his check his week. 

    Dipper tossed around the idea of speeding there, since there weren't a whole lot of people out this time of night, but decided not to. If a cop was to be patrolling right now it’d be even harder to explain to Stan why he was past curfew. 

      Dipper, once arriving at the Shack, quietly crept through the front door. He cringed as it squeaked loudly upon opening. Dipper scanned the area for Stan, nowhere in sight. He was off to a pretty good start. He sighed and closed the door behind him. Dipper heard the sound of the floorboards moving at the top of the stairs located just a few feet from the entrance way, and froze.

    After a few tense moments, and an excited squeal came from Mabel’s old pig. “ _ Waddles!”  _ Dipper harshly whispered to the pig as it bolted down the stairs to greet him. He oinked in delight and hopped around him. Dipper frantically tried to hush him when he heard dull footsteps approach from down the hallway to Dipper’s left.

    Waddles abandoned him by the door and trotted over to the figure down the corridor, oinking happily along the way. Dipper flinched as he realized it was Stan. 

    “What’cha doing out so late?” Stan shooed the pig away as it tried to climb up his leg in attempt to get his attention. 

    Dipper shrugged helplessly, “Eh, lost track of time. I’m sorry Stan, I didn’t mean to take so long.”

    “It’s whatever kid.” Dipper sighed with relief, “But you got goat duty again tomorrow.” Dipper groaned half at himself. 

    “Yeah, okay.” Dipper said bitterly, picking up the flabby pig as he walked back over to him. 

    Stan shook his head slightly as Dipper began to cradle Waddles like a child. “God, you two spoil that pig way too much.”

    “Mabel gets mad if I don’t hold Waddles like this.” Dipper retorted quietly. 

      “Tch, anyway, get some sleep Dipper.” Stan ordered as he turned and left for his own room. Dipper let out a small groan as he tried to readjust Waddles in his arms, carrying him upstairs and placing him in the doorway of Mabel’s room. He peered into the room, just barely able to make out the silhouette of Mabel curled up in a massive ball of blankets on her bed. The attic looked different since Dipper moved his bed down to the spare room on the opposite wing of Stan’s. On the left side where his bed used to sit was an ‘L’ shaped desk with a girly pink desk lamp tucked between the angled walls.

    If you had good enough eyes you could probably see an outline where his bed was in the wooden floor, discolored from the rest of the room from years of not seeing daylight. It kept its original color as the rest of the wood faded from the beaming sun over the years.

    Dipper missed sharing a room with his crazy,yet nonchalant twin. He’d been so busy with work lately he had barely been able to talk to her for the past few days. Maybe he could take a day off soon and hang out with her. The corners of Dipper’s mouth perked slightly at the idea.   

      His mind already buzzed with thoughts of activities they could do as he climbed down the stairs back to his room. Once sitting in his bed, he realized how tired he actually was. His mind fought with his body to get up again to write in his journal, his drowsiness eventually taking over him and making his body stick to the bed sheets. He’d write it down in the morning. Besides, he already had two entries today. 

    Dipper eventually closed his eyes and succumbed to his drowsiness.

 

_                              He found himself curled in a the fetal position in a sea of indigo. The same message repeating in his brain,  _ “ _ Alk’q qorpq yroo xrksv. Alk’q qorpq yroo xrksv. Alk’q qorpq yroo xrksv. . .” _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's crazy to believe that this story has reached over 1,000 hits! I wasn't expecting that many of you to read this- not to mention all of the positive comments.   
> Speaking of which, although I appreciate the comments filled with positivity, I also want you to question what you're reading. I want you to make connections and create theories. One of which, who goes by yoime, has been doing so. Keep it up pal! Questioning what you see is what it means to be a Faller/ Gravity Falls fan. So I encourage you to do so!  
> Anyhow, enjoy the new chapter.

              ------------------------------------------------------

_I keep having the same dream. For the past couple days after Bill suggested that we go camping, I’d have a dream of drowning with these eyes just... watching me and laughing. I don’t what’s going on, but I don’t think it’s good._

_\-------------------------------------------------------_

Chapter four

                    Mabel groaned with annoyance as she stumbled through the kitchen doorway, sunlight filtering through the window above the table and beaming into her eyes. Her hair was trying to escape from the hair tie, pulling only now a few measly locks back.

   “Morning sleeping beauty.” Dipper said through a mouthful of soggy cereal. He’d left it out too long, but he was already committed, so he ate it anyways. Not that Stan wouldn’t kill him if he threw out ‘perfectly good food’.

   “Morning”, she replied drowsily, a droopy smile spreading across her mouth. Dipper watched her as she dizzily grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and poured cereal and milk into it. A smirk grew on Dipper’s face with amusement, chuckling lowly.

“Someone’s tired,” he commented as Mabel lazily put the spoonful of wheat and dairy into her mouth. She only nodded slightly.

   Mabel caught a glance of a bulging backpack propped up against Dipper’s chair. “What’s in the bag?”

   “Huh? Oh, it’s some clothes and stuff. Bill wanted us to go on a little road trip,” he explained nonchalantly.

    Mabel promptly slammed her hands on the table in sudden awakeness. “Why didn’t you tell me? My bro, hanging out with my future husband- we’re already a family!”

   Dipper laughed loudly. “Jesus christ Mabel… You haven’t even talked to the man!”

   “Not yet! I’m waiting for that special day where we accidently bump into each other in the park by the lake, and he’d look into my eyes and I’d look into his and he’ll say ‘hey.’” Mabel lowered her voice to mimic a man’s voice. “‘Sorry, I didn’t see you there. But I see you now, my love’ and we’ll fall in love and grow old together.” She got a dreamy look on her face as her shoulders relaxed and she imagined the scene playing out in her head. Dipper shook his head and took another bite of the wet cereal.

   Stan trotted into the kitchen, with Waddles trailing behind him. Mabel was the first to spot him, despite being in wonderland. “Good morning, Grunkle Stan!” she chirped cheerfully.

   He smiled warmly back at her, “Mornin’ pumpkin.”

   Dipper grimaced in disgust as his breakfast grew progressively more soggy until it was barely hanging together from crumpling over on itself. He nudged the bowl away from him. Stan sat down at the stained wooden table with his black coffee in hand. “What’s with the bag?”

   “Bill wants us to go camping to ‘build a connection’ or something,” Dipper explained with a roll of his eyes. Stan raised a brow in silent questioning. Dipper shrugged, not exactly sure himself what Bill meant either. Stan brushed it off and just drank his coffee.

   “How long are you going to be gone for?” Mabel asked.

  “Couple days probably.” Dipper responded with another slight shrug. _I should probably get more information next time. I could be brought to a shack in the middle of the woods and the police would have no clues to go off of..._

   Mabel gave him a disappointed look. “Aw what? A couple days? That’s too long Dipper!” she whined.

   “I’m sorry Mabel. We really need to gain some trust. We have to do some risky tricks, and we need to trust each other.” Mabel slumped down on the table in response.

   “Yeah, okay. That makes sense, I guess,” she murmured quietly, slouching forward on the table and gazing sadly at her cereal bowl.

   Dipper knew she was trying to guilt-trip him, and it was working. “How about we go on a picnic when I get back?”

   She excitedly sprang up. “Yeah! That sounds fun! Can we go to the park by the lake?” Mabel grinned mischievously. Dipper chuckled quietly and complied. What harm could it do?

   “When’s your first show, kid?” Stan added in, not understanding the joke.

   “Eh, this weekend? I’m a little nervous to be frank.”

   “Oh! I should bring the girls along to support you and Bill!” It was more of a statement than a suggestion. Mabel was implying her friends she’d made while visiting Oregon before. Candy, Grenda, and Pacifica. Dipper didn’t see how she liked Pacifica, but she seemed to be friendly with Mabel despite how she treated her before. Pacifica would make fun of her clothing style and called her weird and silly. Mabel took it hard back then, but somehow they managed to put the water under the bridge. Dipper didn’t really give up his grudge, he didn’t trust her.

   Candy and Grenda were nice though. A little too enthusiastic for Dipper’s taste, but it complemented Mabel’s personality very well. One time while Candy and Grenda spent the night they snuck into Dipper’s room and put lipstick and blush on him. Dipper wasn’t happy the next morning, especially when he found out that they’d taken pictures. Mabel used them as blackmail a few times so she could get out of doing chores.  

   “I mean, sure. If you want.” Dipper glanced down at his wristwatch, noticing with a start that he had to leave. Mabel clung herself to his side, begging him not to go. She was such a toddler, but it was kind of nice sometimes. Dipper eventually managed to pry her off of him, leaving her with big puppy dog eyes. He felt bad for leaving, but this was important business. He left after a few minutes of goodbyes and Mabel making him say goodbye to Waddles, but he was too busy munching on the left overs from last night.

   Mabel let Dipper pass with Waddles before letting him go. Dipper threw the bloated backpack into the back of the car and drove off the gravel-paved driveway. Mabel waving enthusiastically with Stan beside her only smiling. He watched them disappear behind the overgrowth around the pathway in the rear-view mirror.

   Bill once again suggested that they should meet at the site instead of driving together, which Dipper thought would help accomplish the goal of bonding more quickly. He really wanted this to be quick. He only wanted this job in the first place so he’d have a subject to write about for his journalism classes and make a few extra bucks.

   Dipper quickly reached the destination, which was almost 15 miles away, a twenty minute drive down the barren back roads. He spotted Bill sitting on the hood of his red chevy, parked by a narrow, hidden entrance into the dense woods. He was smirking, wearing a dark green raincoat and an ashen colored shirt underneath, and a simple black cotton hat that looked like a mix of a baseball hat and military cap, flat on the top with a bill sticking out of the front. Dipper was surprised by his appearance, as he had only worn formal clothes before. Now he looked less like his boss commanding attention and adoration, and more looked like any other working middle class boy.

   “Hey there Pinetree, took you long enough.” He flashed a mocking grin and shifted his weight off of the car, placing his open palm on his hip instead.

   Dipper parked his car in place and poked his head out of the window, “Eh, well I’m here now. My sister held me back for a few.” It took him a moment to register the nickname Bill had given him. Dipper’s features sank. “Okay, the joke is getting a little worn out. Are you seriously going to start calling me that?”

   “Yeah, of course! It’s cute!” Bill said cheerily. Dipper idly hummed, at least no one was around for Bill to embarrass him in front of at the moment. He hauled his heavy bag out of the car and swung it across his shoulder, duly thumping against his back, causing Dipper’s body to lurch forward slightly.

   Bill let out a quiet snort “Tch, why did you pack so much stuff?”

   “What do you mean? I got my clothes, a toothbrush and paste, some snacks, and lighter fluid and matches.”

   “Haha! You won’t need any of that! We’re going to catch our own food and make our own fire!”

   Dipper quickly reared back into his car without a single word. Bill looked flabbergasted and stuck his head into Dipper’s window as he started the car up. “Hey wait! It won’t be that bad! Come on, lighten up!”

   He huffed, “I can barely handle you at work, then you wanted to go camping, and now you want me to live in the forest for three days like a neanderthal!”

   “Neanderthals were in Europe Pinetree- and I’ll even strike you a deal! You dig?”

   Dipper was so frustrated. All he wanted to do was read his book and get these three days over with. He didn’t feel like arguing. “What’re you talking about, Bill?” Dipper asked harshly.

   “We have a tent, and we can use your lighter fluid and matches to make a fire for two days, but we need to at least make one naturally. Okay? I’ll even catch our food for us.” Bill’s tone softened. Dipper could tell by the expression in his eyes that he really wanted to make this camping trip work.

   “Yeah, bet your ass you will.” he mumbled bitterly, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the car. Bill laughed triumphantly, punching Dipper’s shoulder playfully.

   “That’s the spirit! Let’s get a move on then!” He grinned, pulling his own much lighter backpack and a tote bag out of the back of his car. Dipper assumed the tote bag held the tent that he had promised. He heavily sighed, already seeing that this trip is going to be long and miserable.

\------------------

      After hiking about two miles into the woods Bill and Dipper had decided that the small opening between the trees, with a handful of feet worth of shelter from the canopy the trees provided, would be a good place to set up their camp. Dipper let his bag drop to the ground with a thud, wiping sweat that started to collect under his bangs. It was hotter than most days, and he might have to take off his jacket soon. Meanwhile, Bill had barely seemed to break a sweat and looked more energized than before, grinning widely and scanning around the area.

   Something about that stupid smile irked Dipper. _Why can’t you be miserable like the rest of us?_ Dipper had to bite his tongue from saying that out-loud, knowing that Bill would most likely make a snarky comment and annoy him even more.

  Bill exhaled sharply and whipped his head to Dipper’s direction. “So, do we want to set up the tent first?” Dipper shrugged a silent reply before kneeling down on the ground to dig through the contents of his bag.

   “I don’t know. You decide.” he said as he pulled a ziplock baggy pulling a pair of Roy Roger’s Cookies out of the backpack.

   Dipper hadn’t even gotten to open the bag before Bill swiped it from his hands and chucked it into the forest. “Good riddance you evil pastries!” Bill shouted, causing some of the small woodland creatures in his vacinity to scamper and fly away in surprise.

   “What in the hell is wrong with you?!” Dipper quickly stood up, anger burning through his veins. Bill’s amber eyes narrowed mischievously before he sprinted off into the forest, laughing childishly. Dipper ran off after him, surprised to see how much ground he’d covered in the moment that Dipper hesitated. Bill galloped deer-like with his long slender legs over small obstacles like fallen logs or shrubs.

   As Dipper managed to catch up a handful of feet behind Bill, he took a sudden sharp turn around a tree and wrapped around the younger man, heading back in the direction of the camp. Dipper skidded as he tried to stop his movement and take off in the right direction. He let out a frustrated growl as Bill was now back to being practically miles ahead of him. _Jeez, how can this guy run so_ fast?! Dipper’s body started to slow down, until eventually he was leaning up against a tree, struggling to catch his breath in large heaves. Bill was long gone before he managed to gather himself to look around for him.

   Dipper started walking, doubting Bill would come back to lead him towards the camp. He felt as if someone had strapped boulders onto his calves, burning up as he passed through the low vegetation that formed a thick blanket over the soil. Dipper couldn’t help but gaze up at the morning light filtering through the arms of the tall trees, dappling the ground below in warm yellow light that clashed with deep greens. He would usually get so caught up in the scenery while he ventured through the forest that he would lose sight of where he was heading, this time not being an exception.

  Dipper swiftly glanced around, unable to recognize where he was. _Okay, just look straight ahead, you’ll find your way out at some point,_ he told himself _._ He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and kept his eyes focused on the horizon ahead. As he neared closer to jutting rocks that had once made a landmark for him, telling where the skyline was, he heard scampering in the shrubs surrounding him. He assumed that it was some kind of small animal, until he heard the barely audible sound of whispering followed by the sounds of moving leaves on either side of him. Dipper froze. “Bill?” he called out in a hard whisper. The movement paused for a moment before slowly beginning to inch closer to Dipper until both creatures were only inches from his feet. Dipper bolted off blindly, consequently tripping over an unknown object hidden from within the grassy ground. Dipper tumbled down a steep hill, crashing into the base of a tree, generating a loud metallic bang as he collided with it.  

   Dipper was dazed by the impact, his head hitting first with the metal tree. He had barely noticed the unnatural sound as his mind spun. He groaned and clutched his head, hauling himself up to regain his composure. Once the foggy haze that clogged his mind had somewhat faded, Dipper lightly rapped his knuckles on the surface of the trunk, the sound reciprocating back to him from inside. “Is this tree made of metal or something?”, he quietly mused to himself.   

   He brushed his fingertips over the surface of the tree, finding a small bump, assuming it was a hinge or the edge of a panel. Dipper dug his fingernails into the crevice and tried to pry open a gap in the tree, eventually giving up his attempts and moving over to the opposite side of the panel and trying to open it from that side. It suddenly opened with a loud shriek, causing Dipper to stumble backwards in astonishment by the apprupt force.

   He peered into the small cubby hole built into the trunk of the tree. It held a watermelon sized machine with two switches protruding from the top of it. Dipper took a step closer to examine its sharp, bulky features. He prodded at either switch, but they seemed not to do anything. Once he deemed the machine useless, Dipper spun on his heels, slamming the panel shut in the process. He then noticed a piece of land missing.

   He was taken aback, the machine didn’t seem to do anything, and if it did do anything he would assume that it would have made a loud noise due to the rust that grew over its surface. Dipper kneeled down near the  hole in the ground. It was narrow and adorned in old spider webs and dust. It almost seemed like the hole was created for what held it- an old, mildew ridden book.

   Dipper’s eyes widened in awe. “Woah, what the hell?”, he whispered to himself. He hesitantly reached into the hole, careful not to touch the spider webs. He blew off the dust that sat in layers over the book’s cover, now able to see a golden hand with six fingers placed in the middle, and tears that littered its exterior.

   He placed the book on the ground and opened to its first page, a ripped up piece of paper glued to the back of the cover which said “Property of-” in large fancy letters. A glass monocle attached to a string laid loosely between the pages. Dipper turned to the next page reading a small chunk of text outloud to himself, “It’s hard to believe that it’s been six years since I’ve began studying the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls, Oregon..”  

   Dipper began quickly glancing over the pages afterwards about Floating Eyeballs, giant bats, a cursed door- until he landed on a page that had large bold letters at the bottom saying “trust no one” caught his attention. He skimmed through the passage above the words, “Unfortunately my suspicions have been confirmed, I’m being watched. I must hide this book before _he_ finds it. Remember- in Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust.”He repeated the words, “no one you can trust?” Dipper closed the book and tucked it into the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

   Almost immediately, the shrubbery began to move again. This time he could hear faint growling from the creatures stalking him. Dipper found himself backing away from the predators until his heel bumped into the base of the metal tree. He cursed himself and waited suspensefully as his body no longer wanted to move. The two creatures sprang out of the bushes and aimed for Dipper’s chest and face. He slammed his back against the metal tree in surprise, only catching a glance at the small creature before it tried to claw at his face. He shrieked frantically tried to pull it off his face, noticing that the creature didn’t have fur and instead fleshy feeling fingers.

   Suddenly, something smacked against the side of Dipper’s face, flinging the animal off his face and scaring the other that was attached to his chest into the forest. He was dazed once again, barely able to focus on the person kneeling down next to him.

  “Dipper, are you okay?” He sounded panicked, placing his hands on Dipper’s shoulders as he dared to fall over and pass out. A black cap, gold hair, green raincoat?

   “Bill?” Dipper questioned as the Earth started to slow down from spinning.

   “Yeah, what hell were those things?!” Bill asked before glancing around the area for anymore predators.

   “I don’t know, you tell me. They were scratching at my eyes!”

   “They looked like little men! Gnomes, or maybe fairies!” Bill stood up, pulling Dipper with him. “I think we should go before they come back.”

   Dipper dizzily nodded, noticing that a flat stone sat next to Bill. He probably used that to throw off the monster. “Why the hell did you use a damn rock? Not to mention, you hit me too.”

   “There was no way I was going to touch that thing directly!”

\---------------------

    Dipper was hanging onto Bill as they arrived at the campsite. He hadn’t noticed until they started walking back that he’d rolled his ankle pretty badly. He could barely stand on it without pain shooting up his leg. Bill led him over to a half constructed tent tucked between two trees. He reached from his backpack and retrieved a glass flask filled with water.

   Bill handed it to him. “Are you still hungry?” he asked as he searched through his bag. His eyes looked cold and distant. Dipper was surprised to see him in another mood than enthusiastic and childish. Although he’d showed empathy earlier, Dipper, for some reason, thought this time was different. Thought that he wasn’t entirely a fool and could be serious. And thought that Bill somewhat cared for his safety- maybe not his comfort, but it’s better than nothing.

   Bill took out a ziplock baggy of Roy Roger’s Cookies, and although the bag was covered with stray grass blades, the cookies inside were perfectly intact.

   “Did you seriously pick those back up? After you called them ‘evil pastries’?” Dipper asked, a small grin growing on his face.

  Bill shrugged sheepishly.”Yeah. I mean, I was going to give them back to you when you got back, but you took too long so I went to go look for you. And, well, we see how that turned out.”

   Dipper huffed with amusement and shook his head playfully. He gladly took a bite out of the sprinkle covered cookie. He was disappointed to find out that the cookies had gone stale as he bit into it. He frowned, but seeing it’d be wasteful to throw them away, he continued to eat them.

   “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those,” Bill said, smiling sickly sweet, trying to pressure Dipper into giving him a bite. Dipper rolled his eyes and gave him the other cookie. Bill took it eagerly, taking a large, hungry bite out of it. His face contorted in a distasteful way, cringing as the cookie hit his taste buds.

   “Ew, it’s really stale,” he said through a mouthful of broken pieces of the cookie. “How can you eat that?” Bill asked, hesitantly swallowing the stale food.

   Dipper shrugged. “My whole family is stingy with money, so there’s no throwing away any food.” Bill hummed in acknowledgement.

   “Tell me more about your family.” He commanded, crossing his legs and watching Dipper intently.

   “Well, what do you want to know?” Dipper asked, shifting his weight to make himself comfortable as well.

   “Tell me about your sister you always mention.” Bill said. Dipper had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. _Of course he asked about Mabel._ Dipper really didn’t want either of them meeting just in case they would developing feelings for each other. Mabel didn’t need this jerk in her life, especially now, when she’s trying to get into college for cosmetics. And Dipper really didn’t need Bill hanging around the Shack with Mabel in his life either.

   “Uh, well Mabel’s my twin- fraternal twin. She’s all over the place, obsessed with shiny objects, golden hearted. She has a pet pig… I don’t know. Describing her does no justice, you have to meet her to understand,” he regretfully added, trying not to sound too protective over his sister.

   Bill nodded, “Yeah, okay. Well what about your parents?”

   “My dad works in real estate and my mom is a secretary. She connects calls,” He explained, taking the glass bottle of water and taking a sip. “What about your family?”

  Bill looked taken aback, his eyes widening for a moment before he glanced around at the ground wildly. He quickly stood up and cleared his throat before laughing awkwardly. “That’s not important,” he said. “Well, I’m going to gather some firewood.”

  “Wait, Bill, I’m sorry if you don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t know.” Bill kept walking without looking back. Dipper felt his stomach turn to stone and sink inside of him. He pulled himself up, careful not to put too much pressure on his bum ankle while hobbling after Bill into the forest. Bill was gathering sticks off of the ground with a bundle of twigs in his arm when Dipper reached him. “Bill”, he called out quietly. He didn’t answer and grabbed a few more sticks. “Bill, answer me.”

   Bill stood straight up and kept his back turned towards him. “Drop it, okay? I’ll tell you another day,” he said, his voice low, yet sharp and stern.

   “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

   “It’s fine Dipper.” Bill sighed, returning to picking up the fallen branches. Dipper narrowed his eyebrows in confusion and opened his mouth to speak but clamped it back shut. He saw no point in trying to say anything else. He stumbled back into the camp, his ankle not causing as much pain as before.

  Dipper sat by the tent and reached for his backpack lying close to the half made tent. He glanced around for anything watching as he took out the mysterious book and set it inside his bag carefully.

   If this book was hidden, it must be important in one way or another.

\---------------

    By the time the sun started to sink behind the horizon, most of the camp had been set up. Bill built a small fire pit with a small hand trowel he’d brought (which Dipper hoped he didn’t plan on using the hand trowel to dig a spot to urinate), the tent was up,  and Bill had caught a rabbit for them to eat.

   Dipper had nearly thrown up as Bill skinned the rabbit with a hunter’s knife. Bill told him not to look if he was going to get sick, but even the sounds made him feel light-headed. Thankfully he had buried the inedible parts away from the camp. Dipper really did wish he’d become a vegetarian as he ate the cooked rabbit. It’s a different situation if you kill the animal yourself, it doesn’t feel as dirty if someone in a factory pumps it with chemicals before killing it and packaging it in a bag.

   Bill was amused as Dipper gingerly ate small pieces of the rabbit. “What’s the matter? You eat other animals all the time!” he said.

   “It’s different! I saw you kill it.”

   “It makes you feel guilty doesn’t it?”

   Dipper nodded as he placed the cooked flesh of the rabbit on the ground and watched the fire flicker. “I can get you a sandwich from a gas station if you really don’t want to eat it.” Bill offered.

   “No, it’s fine. I lost my appetite.” Dipper murmured. “Thanks though.”

   Bill shrugged and took another chunk out of his meal. “What time do you want to go to bed?”

   Dipper hummed quietly, “I don’t know. I don’t exactly want to go to bed because of those monsters that attacked me earlier.”

   “That’s understandable, but they weren’t much of a threat, Pinetree.” He smirked over at him. Dipper frowned back. _Not much of a threat’? One of them was trying to scratch out my eyes!_

   “Yeah, well you weren’t the one having your eyes gouged out.”

   “Fair point, fair point. But, you also have a big strong man here to protect you from them.”

   “Oh really? When is he showing up?”

   Bill chuckled, “Hahah! I walked into that one.”He sat the styrofoam plate that held his food down. “But seriously, I have a knife and I happen to know how to use it.”

   Dipper shrugged his shoulders slightly, “I mean yeah, okay. I guess I could sleep in a few then. The fire’s almost out anyways.”

   “Yeah, the perfect mood to tell scary stories!” Bill pretended his fingers were claws and swiped them once downwards.

   Dipper laughed lowly, “Yeah. What kind of story you got for me?”

   Bill hummed in thought for an extended amount of time before suddenly gasping. “Have you heard about the Dorm Room Murder?”

   Dipper chuckled with amusement at Bill’s sudden gasp,“Heheh, no I haven’t. What’s it about?”

   “Okay, so it’s about these two female roommates who share a dorm at a college. It’s at the end of the semester and a huge test is coming up. One of the girls decide to go to this huge party that everyone is going to while the other stays to study.” Dipper nods in acknowledgement as he continued. “Well, when the girl came back from the party at 2 in the morning she decided not to turn on the lights because the other was already in bed. The next day the girl found the words written on the wall, ‘aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the lights?’ in the other girl’s blood. And they never found the murderer.”

   “Oh, god. Can you fucking imagine? That poor girl must’ve been traumatized!” Dipper’s eyes were widen with astonishment.

   Bill smiled sheepishly, “Yeah, well, it’s only an urban legend.”  The fire was now only a few burning embers, smoke barely rising from the burnt wood anymore. Dipper gazed up at the stars through the black silhouette of the tree’s leaves. The navy blue sky was doused with speckles of milky white, shining brightly. Living in the city most of his life, Dipper hadn’t gotten to see the sky without any light pollution very often.   

   Bill huffed with amusement and scooted over closer to him. “You see any constellations from here?”

   “I actually don’t know many. I just like star gazing to star gaze, not to play Connect the Dots.”

   “Heh, try it, it’s fun. See, there’s a bit of Pegasus. And Pisces over there.” Bill said outlining the shapes of the constellations. “Oh, do you see those three big stars there? Those form the Summer Triangle. They’re all apart of different constellations like Cygnus, Lyra, and Aquila- I think.”

   “Wow, anything else professor?” Dipper joked.

   “Um, it’s doctor to you. I have a Doctorate degree in Smooth-talking.” Bill flashed a mischievous grin over to him. “From University of Hunks.”  

   Dipper bursted out into a fit of giggles. “What the fuck?! Hahah!”

   “I don’t even know why that’s funny!” Bill started to laugh until the giggles were quiet heaves, Dipper ended up leaning on Bill’s shoulder shaking because he was laughing so hard. What seemed like ages, they both started to calm down after a few moments.

   “Shit. Oh my god, my stomach hurts!” Dipper said through quiet laughs. Bill was grinning ear to ear.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be that amused! Jesus Christ.”

   “I didn’t know either!” Dipper took deep sighs to calm himself down again. He sat up again and gazed up at the stars.

   Bill stood up and stretched out his back before saying, “Well you can go ahead and head to bed while I clean up a bit, okay?”

   “What exactly is there to clean up?” Dipper questioned, remaining sitting on the ground.

   Bill gestured over to Dipper’s barely eaten rabbit and the plates. “We can’t leave these out here. Animals will get to it and then I will actually have a reason to protect you.”

   “Hey, those tiny monsters _are_ a threat! And I don’t need your protection, it’s just very much.. Appreciated.” he trailed on, trying to come up with a response without making it sound like he actually needed his protection.

   Bill rolled his eyes, “Yeah, ‘appreciated’ we’ll go with that.” He started to gather their trash and the hand trowel and walked over to the outskirts of the campsite. Dipper groaned quietly in frustration, knowing that he was right.

   Dipper climbed into the fabric tent and wrapped himself in his sleeping bag. Bill had joined him in the tent a few moments later. He had discarded his jacket and hat and folded them neatly in the corner. Bill had laid facing Dipper, and Dipper faced him.

   Dipper had his eyes closed as he tried to fall asleep, and it was pretty easy for his body to relax from the exhausting day he’d had, but his mind remained restless, thinking back to the monsters and the mysterious book he’d found in a hole in the ground. His mind buzzed with possibilities of why the book had been hidden and what the creatures where. _Maybe they were really tiny raccoons? No, they didn’t have fur or claws. It felt like they had fingers. What kind of animal have fingers and no fur? And that book. Why was it hidden? Who hid it? Maybe someone was trying to steal it? Or it documented a science experiment gone wrong?_

   Bill’s voice cut through Dipper’s thoughts, “Hey, I think I see another constellation.” Dipper opened one of his eyes and frowned at him.

   “What are you talking about?” Dipper whispered lowly. Bill brushed away Dipper’s bangs and uncovered his forehead. Dipper’s stomach dropped and he felt his cheeks start to heat up. He quickly batted his hand away and sat up, eyes widened in a mixture of embarrassment and dread.

   Bill sat up with him, “What’s the matter? What’s on your forehead?”

   “It’s n-nothing! Don’t worry about it!” He said panickedly, almost stumbling over his words.

   “Nothing? The why are you acting like that? I definitely saw something.” Bill started to sound irritated as he tried to urge him to show him.

   Dipper sighed in defeat, “It’s a birthmark, okay?”

   “Okay. Well, can I see it?” he asked impatiently. Dipper knew he didn’t understand why it was such a big deal.

   Dipper saw no point in refusing, he’d already seen some of it and plus, he’d most likely see it while he’s sleeping anyways. He pushed his bangs up to reveal the birthmark hidden behind them- a perfect constellation of the Big Dipper. Although the lines were faint and not completely straight, it was an uncanny resemblance to the constellation that hung in the night sky. Bill crawled closer to him to examine the markings across his forehead.

   “Woah.” he said breathlessly, only a few inches from his face. He placed his hands on the side of his face and brushed his thumb over his birthmark. Dipper felt even more uncomfortable as Bill started to prod at him. “This is amazing!” Bill said as he withdrew from him. “This is truly amazing!”

   Dipper started to pick at his nails nervously. “Is it? Everyone else thinks it’s weird.”

   “Who says being weird is wrong? You’re one out of million, don’t you see?” Bill grinned widely, taking Dipper’s hands and shaking them with excitement. Dipper forcibly pulled his hands back and gazed at the ground.   

   Bill’s grin faded fast and grew into a scowl. “Tch, okay then. If you don’t want to see your uniqueness then that’s your problem,” He said bitterly before climbing back into his sleeping bag and facing the tent’s barrier.

   ‘ _Amazing’ he says. How can a freak be ‘amazing’?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lack of updates recently, there's no real good excuse. I have been a bit lazy lately..  
> But, I also want to say, I really do appreciate the comments and I urge you to keep commenting, otherwise I'm not sure if you guys still enjoy reading it. And again, I encourage constructive criticism and theories.   
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter five

Dipper had stirred at soft crackling noises emitting from outside of the tent, along with a drifting aroma of breakfast. He cracked open his eyes, squinting as the morning light seeped through the fabric walls and hit his retina, his eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. His spine felt as if someone had taped a board to it, stiff from laying on the flat, wet, and cold ground all night. Although, as he’d stood up, his ankle that he had previously twisted had healed somewhat. It was a duller pain if he put pressure on it than if he did yesterday. 

   Dipper unzipped the tent’s entrance and pushed it aside as he climbed out of it. Bill sat a few feet away from the makeshift shelter by the fire pit and turned to look at him once he’d detected him moving around. He had already changed into a new outfit, a soot gray button up shirt that was attached all the way to his neck, and black pants that hugged the sides of his waist and thighs and loosen as they reached down to his ankles. He hadn’t tucked his shirt into his pants. Bill’s hair looked like he had stuck his head out of a car moving at 60 miles down the interstate, unlike how he would usually style his hair. It was always so clean and combed to the side. 

   “Good morning. Did princess sleep well?” He cracked a mocking smile. Dipper sighed with agitation, he wasn’t ready to deal with Bill’s antics this early in the morning. He sat down directly across Bill on the other side of the fire pit, glancing down at the pan that was suspended by a metal grill above the flames, licking the underside, frying an egg and a sausage patty. 

   Bill was waiting for a response to his question. “Where did you get the breakfast from?”, Dipper asked instead.

   “Where do you think Dipper? There’s not any trees that I know of that grow eggs and sausage.” He said sarcastically. Dipper rolled his eyes.

   “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” He retorted back quietly.

“I am deeply offended”, Bill added. He placed his palm on the middle of his chest for dramatic effect. 

“So that means you left me in the woods a good 15 miles away from the nearest rest stop? What time did you even get up?” Dipper’s tone quickly dropped.

   “Well, I thought you wouldn’t be so keen on eating another rabbit. So, you’re welcome.” Bill said as he prodded at the patty, glancing up at him periodically.

   Dipper huffed, “That’s not the point. What if some deranged lumberjack came by and hacked me to pieces? Or those creatures came back and attacked me?”

   He rolled his eyes at his strange overthinking imagination. “But nothing happened, did it? Being paranoid gets you nowhere, kid. It only hinders the truth. And your mental state too.”

   Dipper remained silent, quietly fuming. It did make sense, but it was apart of his nature to overthink situations. Sometimes he would wish he was more like his sister and followed his heart, never second questioning it for a moment. It was a lot harder than what it seems. Bill and Mabel seemed to be able to do that very easily. Now that he thought about it, about everyone he knew seemed to be able to. Bill, Mabel, Stan, Soos the handyman, Wendy the cashier.

   From the way the two keep arguing, Dipper figured they probably won’t be able to bond and perform that stunt before the end of June. It seemed like that’s all what they’ve been doing. 

   “How do you like your eggs?” Bill’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere. He could tell that Bill wasn’t very pleased by the harsh undertone of his voice. 

   Dipper had refused to eat eggs unless they were scrambled. Anyway else he found was gross. He didn’t exactly like eggs, but he could tolerate scrambled eggs at the least. Bill retrieved another egg from a small cardboard box that only held half a dozen eggs.    
  


   Dipper had noticed that Bill was very conscious about the environment. Although he was too, he wouldn’t go out of his way just to make sure there was little to no waste left like Bill seemed to. 

   “How do you know how to do all these things? Did you have Boy Scouts or something?”

   Bill paused for a moment before nodding his head. “Yeah. For a couple years in elementary.” He’d kept his eyes focused on the eggs as he spoke.

   “And you still remember how to do all these things?” He asked skeptically.

   Bill shrugged his shoulders, “I used to go camping a lot.” Dipper bobbed his head slightly in acknowledgement. He wish he could go camping more often. Maybe not with Bill though. He likes to camp primitively, which is really frustrating and unsanitary to Dipper. 

   Dipper would prefer to rent out a small lodge with running water and electricity and most definitely a fridge. So that he wouldn’t have to kill an animal himself for a meal and instead, buy food from a convenience store. 

   But despite the hunter-gather style that they are camping and the arguments Bill and him had, Dipper hadn’t mind this trip too much. Although, he wouldn’t admit that to Bill. 

    “So what is on the agenda for today?” Dipper inquired, gazing dully at the cooking meat on the stone pan. The flames beneath it shrunk into the bundle of twigs that remained. Dipper hoped that whatever they were going to do didn’t require much energy.

   Bill hummed to himself for a tick. “What if we went hiking?” Dipper mentally groaned to himself.  _ Just what I wanted. _

   “Why not?” he shrugged his shoulders.  _ It’s not like my ankle is going to get any worse. _ He thought snappishly, biting his tongue from saying to Bill. They needed to be on good terms to perform the trick, after all. Dipper frowned in thought,  _ What’s the purpose of bonding? Only one person actually gets into the tank. _

   Bill scraped the scrambled egg off of the pan onto a styrofoam plate, plopping another slab of seasoned mixture of ground beef and pork onto the hot surface of the skillet. It collided with grease that had been collected on it’s sides, the impact causing the fluid to splash up over the brim of the frying pan, some droplets landing on Bill’s skin. Dipper had seen the grease splatter onto his wrist as he held onto the handle of the pan, but he oddly didn’t recoil in pain an inch.

   Bill passed the plate piled high with eggs over to Dipper. He nodded respectfully to Bill, thanking him quietly. He drew a plastic fork out of a box sitting near the stack of plates and stabbed it into the eggs. Dipper idly chewed on the bits, the flavor being a bit watered down.

  “Here”, Bill had a patty balanced on a spatula, urging Dipper to let him set it on his plate as he reached it out to him. Dipper moved his plate forward, the sausage loudly smacking against the plate. He frowned at Bill with irritation, who smiled sheepishly.

 Dipper slit a chunk of the patty and gingerly bit into it. As he did so, Bill was fixated on him, an undefined grin faintly spreading across his mouth. Dipper gave him a puzzled and slightly concerned expression,“What?”, he asked, cocking his head and wiping his face off, thinking he might be looking at some bits of eggs that stuck to his face. 

   Bill shrugged his shoulders momentarily, “Is it good?”

   “I mean, sure. I’m not picky.” He responded.  Bill’s features sank, disappointed with his answer.

   Despite his brief dissatisfaction, Bill’s expression flicked back into his normal, more chipier state. “Do you want to start leaving after breakfast? We could make it back before dusk- maybe a few hours so.” Bill too raised his plate to partake of the food he had prepared for them. Dipper merely lolled his shoulders in return.

   “Yeah”, he said after swallowing a chunk of food, “that sounds fine. I’ll probably have to fill up my water bottle soon though.” Bill confirmed that he would have to also using his hands, pointing to himself then holding up his index and middle fingers to convey his message. His cheeks stuffed with half chewed up food, some leaking over the side of his lips and dribbling down his chin. Bill, embarrassed, quickly wiped it from his face and smiled sheepishly.

   Dipper playfully pretended to be disappointed in his sloppy eating habits by slowly shaking his head, painfully trying to keep a straight expression. They both cracked up, giggling quietly, only to laugh harder when Dipper had accidentally sucked up air through his nose and snorted. Bill had to cover his mouth to prevent any food from escaping from behind his lips. 

   After they had calmed down a few moments later, they’d finished their breakfast with few interjections of commentary. Bill and Dipper then prepared to leave, cleaning up any waste that could pollute the area and attract the woodland creatures. Dipper, although still not entirely thrilled with the thought of hiking up a mountain in the blazing summer sun, was now definitely more energized than he was previously this morning. Bill on the other hand, was practically bursting with vitality at the seams. He paced around the campsite as Dipper wrapped up preparing for the hike. 

   While doing so, he had rediscovered the mysterious book he had found earlier crammed into his backpack. Dipper had felt an odd electricity ignite the air, perhaps foreboding. He felt compelled to keep the battered book inside just in case of an emergency. Dipper now, began to have curiosity flood over him to skim through it. Dipper had started to draw the book out from the heaps of wrinkled clothing, “Hey! What’cha got there Dipper?”

   He jolted suddenly at the abrupt sound of Bill’s voice. Dipper sputtered, his voice shifting pitch midway, “I-it’s nothing!” he hastily tried to conceal the object by pulling over the flap of the backpack.

   Bill chucked out with amusement,  _ “‘I-it’s nothing!’ _ ” He mocked Dipper’s voice crack, drastically altering the drops and pitches of his speech. Bill puffed out once more, “C’mon you stupid dingus, I’m ready to go already!”

   Once the color returned back to Dipper’s body, he blearily blinked and sighed with relief. He scrambled after Bill, who was already beginning to trot out of the camp’s boundary. Dipper’s mind couldn’t help but wander back to the book and the eerie energy it gave off.  _ What secrets are you hiding? _

 

\--------------------------------

 

            As midday had start to set in, the two young men had reached the peak of a large mound, rising above many other smaller hills blanketed with green forestry as far as the Earth began to curve into itself. Dull sunlight filtered over the landscape through the graying clouds. Bill huffed and gazed up at the dark clouds racing at a snail’s pace across the ashen sky. “We better find shelter soon.”

  “Should we head back then?” Dipper suggested.

   “No, it’ll rain by then, no point. I say we find cover and wait it out. It shouldn’t last too long.” Bill responded, keeping his gaze fixated on the rolling clouds. Dipper nodded silently and scanned the environment.

   Finding no cover sufficient enough to protect them from the elements, they decided to continue onwards in hope to discover better shelter. Whilst searching for cover, Dipper spotted something scamper between the overgrowth and growl. He briskly jogged up to Bill’s side just in case the creature decided to attack. He grew more on edge as the sound of crunching dead leaves seemed to follow them with great caution. Dipper urged them to go faster, Bill complying without question. 

   As glints of lightning flashed in the sky and thunder’s bellow followed, Bill and Dipper had began to give up hope of finding shelter before the storm. Miniscule rain droplets started to fall from the heavy black clouds. 

   Bill groaned out, abruptly stopping in his tracks and pulling off his backpack. “I didn’t bring my raincoat, did I?” Dipper joined him and searched through his bag.  

   Bill growled out once again before forcibly closing the bag again and swinging it over his shoulders. “Did you bring one? Or an umbrella, more preferably?”

   “Eh, no.” Dipper finally said after a few heartbeats of rummaging through the items inside the bag. 

   He sighed, full of irritation. “Alright, let’s hope we find cover soon before it starts to pour.” Bill began to walk back on the path, “Or that we don’t get too sick.”  

   As the rain began to fall harder, they had broke out into jogging, swiftly scanning the environment for any overhanging branches or holes in walls of layered rock and dirt. Through the blurred trunks of the trees as Dipper ran by, he’d spotted an obscure structure between the gaps of the vegetation. At first glance it looked like an amalgamation of olive greens and browns, as much as other objects that flew past his vision, but as he studied it more he’d realized it was a hunting shelter.  

   Dipper dug his heels into the damp soil to hinder his movements, sliding somewhat in the process. “Hey, wait. Is that something?” Dipper asked despite already knowing what the structure was. Bill halted and directed his gaze to where Dipper’s was. 

   “Oh, shit. Yeah it is!” Bill exclaimed as he took off into the dense overgrowth. Dipper hesitantly with weary thoughts clouding his mind, flicked his eyes to check for any signs of stalking predators before taking off after Bill.  

   Bill had flung his body over the plywood that served as a barrier. Despite that there was a small door, Bill thought this way was better to enter the little post. He promptly slammed down his pack on the bench that took up most of the empty space with a wide grin of enthusiasm on his face. 

   Dipper lamely entered through the door and sat down gently on the bench. Bill gave him a disapproving look, “You square. You’re no fun.” He retrieved a small package from his bag and opened the small box. Bill drew out a cigarette and lit it with a hand-held lighter from within the box as well. 

   “I didn’t you smoked.” Dipper mumbled, almost being drowned out by the sound of the onslaught of rain pummeling the roof of the post. 

   Bill inhaled, “You don’t know a lot about me.”, he mumbled before the milky white smog escaped from his lips, dripping over his chin and dissipating into the atmosphere almost instantly. Dipper watched with bated breath, not wanting to breathe in the smoke, staring in awe as the cloud morphed in snake-like tendrils as they seeped out of his lungs. 

  “Do you know how to do any tricks?” Dipper asked curiously. 

   Bill nodded before sucking more tobacco from the cigarette stick. He puckered his lips and tilted his head to the sky before puffing out rings of smoke, wobbling in air as it struggled to keep its shape before collapsing and vanishing. Bill chuckled over to Dipper who was intently watching the different rings float off.

   “You look like a kid who went in a candy shop for the first time.” Bill smirked.  

   Dipper shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve never really been around people who smoke. Or least not in front of me.”

   Bill paused for a moment, a thought forming in his mind. He outreached his two fingers that held his cigarette, “You wanna try?”

  Dipper looked down at his cigarette with widen eyes. “Um, no. That’s alright.” Bill withdrew and raised it to his lips, breathing out smoke.

   “Your loss.” he mumbled, staring off into the horizon. Dipper wondered why Bill was acting so laid back all of sudden. Was he trying to act cool? Dipper didn’t know, nor cared really. 

   As the minutes passed Dipper grew more drowsy. He speculated because of the uphill hike and the sudden change of weather. But the more he sat on the bench, the more splinters pierced through his clothing and poked at his skin. 

   He started to fidget, only making the splinters wedge their way further into his clothes. Bill noticed and retrieved his bag, taking out a torn and worn out towel, its edges frayed with age. He offered it to Dipper, to which, Dipper gave him an odd look, questioning  why he’d brought a towel. A blanket seemed more useful, but the one he used last night was probably too big to fit inside his backpack. 

   Dipper obliged and took the towel. He stood up and brushed the wood shavings from his bottom and laid the towel over the bench. “Thanks.” He said as he sat back down. 

  Bill nodded in acknowledgement before cracking a faint smile. “Have you ever heard of the Skintaker?”

   “Like a Wendigo?” he inquired, leaning on the wall to creaked from his weight.

    Bill shrugged his shoulders, “Sort of. It’s a skeleton that kills kids and skins them to make clothing. My parents would scare me with stories about him so I’d be good.” His tense stature relaxed and he leaned on the the wall behind him. “You asked about my parents yesterday, so there you go.”

   Dipper was surprised that Bill had confessed that. After his reaction yesterday, he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to hear about his home life.  _ Why is he telling me this now? _

   Dipper rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not sure how to react to this information. “Uh, I’m sorry about that. How old were you?”

   “Probably four or five. I don’t remember much. My aunt took me in after I turned seven so it was before then- and I don’t have any pictures of my parents so I can’t use those to narrow down an age. I only remember the stories of the Skintaker.” He explained, not sparing Dipper a glance, staring out into the foggy distance. 

   “Why don’t you have any pictures of them?” Dipper sat up with full attention. 

   Bill seemed to fidget, darting his gaze around in thought, calculating what to say next. “I’ll tell you another time.” He looked over at him with an indifferent, unreadable, look on his face. 

   Dipper had opened his mouth to urge Bill to continue, before deciding against it. He paused and bobbed his head in acknowledgement. “Yeah, okay.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

            Dipper had been woke by the slight nudge in the side of his ribs and Bill shouting his name. He figured that he must’ve dozed off waiting for the rain to stop. 

   “Dipper! Wake up!”, Bill had shouted. 

   Dipper mumbled back. “Yeah, yeah. I’m up now.”

   The other man hushed him harshly, covering up his mouth, a tense and bewildered expression grew across his face as he glazed over the scenery. A lump began to form in the back of Dipper’s throat as a flood of panic washed over him.

    The almost inaudible noise of damp leaves brushing up against each other, overshadowed by the patter of rain droplets, moved along around the small hut and circled around them. The predator let out a low, throaty growl as it approached closer to the side of the shack. Bill tore his gaze and leaned over to Dipper’s ear, “We have to make a break for it. I’ll go first and you just follow me.”

   Dipper swallowed thickly and nodded, grabbing his backpack and the towel in preparation. Bill held up his first three fingers, counting down in long intervals, keeping his eyes fixated on the overgrowth as he did so. As his last finger retracted into a fist he jumped over the barrier once again and bolted off. Dipper was barely able to react in time before the creature took off after them both. 

   Adrenalin flowed throughout Dipper’s body, forcing him to run faster as the creature steadily caught up to him. Bill took a sharp turn, Dipper trying to follow his movements, slid on the wet mud as he went to turn. He quickly gain balance and continued after him.   

   The two men swerved between the trees in attempt to lose the predator and wear it out, only to wear themselves out in consequence.  Dipper’s lungs began to burn up, his throat bone dry and starting to taste faintly of blood as he pushed on wards. Bill seem to start to slow down as well. Meanwhile, the creature behind them hadn’t failed to keep up its pace. 

   Dipper brought himself to look behind him, discovering that from within the grass and litter that two more creatures joined the chase. He couldn’t quite make out the their features, but the fleshy tone of their skin and small form that ran on all four limbs.

   As panic took over Dipper’s system, his breath developed into short and unfulling gasps. He was over ventilating. He body grew heavier as his head grew lighter. 

   “Bill!” he called out. “I can’t keep up! It’s not working!”

   Bill nodded and let his body fall back next to Dipper. He hastily grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward. Up ahead on the horizon was a field of thick overgrowth around a tiny lake bed. Bill darted off in that direction and dived into the reeds, Dipper struggling to stay behind him. 

   Within the tall vegetation was a group of miniature bush saplings near the bank of the lake. Bill hauled Dipper behind it and slapped his hand over his gaped mouth trying to regain his breath. Dipper pushed his hand away and covered his own mouth instead.

         The sound of moving reeds silenced both of them as they moved past them. One of the creatures deterred from the other two, sniffing loudly, catching a whiff of the two men’s scents.

   Bill looked around wildly for an escape, catching a glimpse of the lake just a couple feet away from them. An idea sparked in his head.

   Bill drew a baseball sized rock from the ground and chucked it into the water, a noisy splash emitting from the rock’s impact. The creature near Bill and Dipper froze for a heartbeat before sprinting off into the lake, the other two followed. Bill took Dipper’s hand once again and dashed off into the the opposite direction.

   Once the two men figured that the creatures were no longer stalking them, they crashed to the ground, heaving heavily. 

   Dipper coughed loudly from the lack of moisture in his throat. He quickly ripped open his bag and drew his water bottle, downing half of the bottle in one chug. Bill sat down next to him, urging him to share the water. He complied and handed him the bottle, Bill promptly drank the rest of the liquid, some spilling over the corners of his mouth.

   “We need to leave this damn forest. But not today. It’s almost nightfall already.” Bill rasped out, idly tossing the empty bottle on the ground.   

   “What?” Dipper shouted, “What if they attack us while we’re asleep?”

   Bill said harshly, “I was just about to get to that. We’ll take shifts, okay? And I can see if I can make a wall before it gets too dark.”

   Dipper swallowed and nodded hesitantly.  _ I shouldn’t have even agreed to this. _

   “C’mon”, Bill said as he stood up, “we need to get a move on”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry writing these chapters take so long! I'll try to stop procrastinating.  
> But I hope that you all had a wonderful holiday and hope that you'll have a great New year too!

Chapter six

        Bill had decided to take the first shift of keeping a look-out for the monsters that roamed the forest. He sat on one of the logs placed near the dim fireplace. The tinder that they’d previously gathered had gotten wet from the shower of heavy rain. The fire sizzled as water from the logs evaporated in the heat. Bill sat close to it, shaving a fallen tree branch into a spear to better protect the camp’s boundary. So far, he had wedged a handful of the spears into the ground at a low angle, ready to pierce any creature who tried to jump over the wall.

    Dipper lay restlessly inside of the tent. His heart was racing in irrational fear of the pack of creatures raiding the camp to attacking Bill and him. Dipper had brought his backpack into the tent just in case the creatures did appear and they had to run away. At least then, they would have some tools with them.

   He thought back on what he’d put in there, if they would need anything else if they did have to flee. A few extra pairs of clothes, a water bottle, lighter and lighter fluid, his snacks, and... That book.

   Dipper sat up and looked over to his bag, tucked away in the corner of the tent. His eyes darted over to the silhouette of Bill, cast on the fabric walls of the shelter, who was a meager inches away. Dipper hesitantly reached for the bag and pulled it towards him, generating a not-so-subtle shuffling sound as the two materials slid across one another. He cringed as he glanced back at Bill’s shadow. Bill seemed to show no interest, not even glancing behind him to inspect the noise. Dipper felt his body relax and he undid the bag’s flap.

   The mysterious book was placed very obviously in the far back of the bag, where someone’s spine would rest. He was lucky that Bill wasn’t very inquisitive and suspicious of him after he had almost caught Dipper with it earlier, otherwise Bill would have no problem finding the journal.  

   Dipper drew the rotting book from the clothing that hid it inside the backpack, and glossed over its surface again. The golden hand adorned with an extra finger- Dipper wasn’t sure which finger had been multiplied, but it was most likely the middle or ring finger Dipper decided. In the hand’s middle was a number three, and its red cover was sprinkled with cuts and tears of paper that rotted away over the years.   

   Dipper flipped through the pages, barely able to recognize the different letters written in cursive as they bled together in the darkness. He turned to a page titled in large bold letters: “ _GNOMES_ ”. Dipper narrowed his eyes. Bill had mentioned gnomes.

   Just under the title was a rather large picture that took up most of the page, documenting what a gnome looked like. Dipper’s heart dropped as he connected the creatures that had been terrorizing Bill and him to the picture. Human-like faces, unkempt facial hair, little beady eyes, very short in height and those odd pointy hats.

   Although Dipper hadn’t been able to see the creatures that clearly while they chased them, due to the shrubbery that blurred their features, the similarities were uncanny.

   He skimmed through the text surrounding the picture. It described that gnomes usually travel in packs and possess a unique skill to stack themselves on each other to create a larger formation, probably to scare off predators. The author said that a couple of the gnomes ate his pens and book covers too.

   Dipper continued on the next page, “ _Several tried to ‘kidnap’ me as an ‘offering to the queen’ as I was sleeping, but I just drop-kicked them out the window when I awoke. Unsettling.”_

    _They want to kidnap us?!_ Dipper almost said aloud. His heart started to pound against his chest. He quickly glanced over the rest of the material, “ _WEAKNESS:.....?_ ”. Dipper slammed the book closed and tossed it aside.

   He grabbed the sides of his head and raised his legs up to his chest. What could he do? If he told Bill, would he think he’s crazy? He couldn’t show him the book. Something about it, how it was hidden, it probably shouldn’t be all over the papers, it had to be a secret. Bill didn’t seem to be able to keep secrets. He’s immature. Dipper couldn’t tell him about the book. But, how could he warn Bill about the gnomes without mentioning the book?

   Bill was capable of protecting the both of them, maybe waiting until the morning was the best choice. The sky was covered by the clouds and blocked the moonlight, there was no way they could navigate through the forest at this time anyway.

   But once it was Dipper’s shift- a flood of anxiety overwhelmed him. _What if I fall asleep? What if I can’t protect us? What if I fail?_

   Dipper uncurled and placed the book back inside his bag before pushing the tent’s entrance open. He swallowed down the lump in the back of his throat that had started to form and tried to keep his voice steady. “Hey Bill.”

   Dipper saw Bill jump slightly before turning towards him. “What is it?”

   “Could-”, his voice hitched. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Could you like, come in here? Just until I fall asleep?” Dipper felt his cheeks heat up, feeling like a little kid who had a nightmare and was asking to sleep in their parent’s bed.

   Bill’s expression morphed from confusion to sympathy, he averted his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, alright.” He placed the half carved spear on the damp ground and climbed into the tent.

   

   As Dipper laid back down and covered himself in the blankets, Bill idly watched him and sat at the entrance.

   “What are you doing?” Dipper asked.

   Bill shrugged his shoulders, “I’m not going to lay down, I might fall asleep and no one will be guarding the camp.”

   “That’s creepy. Don’t stare at me while I sleep”, Dipper mumbled. They sat in silence for a few moments. “Come on, please..?” Dipper begged pitifully.

   Bill rolled his eyes and gave in. “Alright, but it’s your fault if I fall asleep and get attacked.”

   Dipper felt a slight weight leave his chest as Bill laid down next to him, giving him comfort with the heat that radiated off his body. But anxiety still pricked at his brain as he closed his eyelids and felt himself drift away.

    

\-----------------------------------------

             _Nothing. There was no sense of anything._

_An empty void as far as the eye can see in all directions that hazed the thin lines of up and down, the absent feeling of temperature, pressure, or movement, and absolute silence. The closest thing that could describe it was being transformed into a gas form, completely weightless._

_As the minutes flew by, darker shades of the landscape formed, warbling and morphing into various different shapes and sizes. The mysterious substance began growing in size at an alarming rate, reaching the corners of a person’s view, the blob moving in disharmony to create a gigantic figure._

_The black figure seemingly looked humanoid, but possessed a pointed top where a head would be placed. It floated there, looking off to the distance, before it sprinted off without warning. It’s feet causing no tremor, but a drowned out thumping as if it was far away or submerged in water._

_As it approached closer, the figure collapsed back into its gas form. It began reconstructing itself into the silhouette of the sea creature that appeared before. It’s fringed tentacles that adorned its head, swayed as it spoke._

_“Brxbdb duhbdb lqbdb dyhjudb dqjhugdb…. wlmg tvg gll xolhv gl gsv vmvnb.”_

_\----------------------------------------------_

    

          Dipper was awoken by harsh nudges on his side and a deep, gravely and drowsy voice, “Get up, it’s your turn.”

   Dipper wiped the crust from his eyes and moved out of the way for Bill to lay down. “I left my knife out there. You should make more of those spears.” Bill said as he covered himself with the sheets.

   He nodded in acknowledgement and grunted tiredly. Dipper pushed aside the tent’s opening and let out a sharp sigh of apprehension as he peered out into the dimly lit clearing. He sat down on the log, faintly warm from when Bill had sat on it. Bill’s hunter knife was wedged in the bark of the trunk with a small pile of branches stacked nearby.   

         

   Dipper glanced over to the end of the camp’s boundary. About sixteen carved spears stuck out of the dirt and pointed out into the forest. The sight somewhat gave him ease, but at the same time, heightened his fear that they had to go to those measures to make sure the gnomes would stay out.

   Dipper chuckled grimly to himself. _We’re being stalked by gnomes. Fucking tiny magical men trying to kidnap us and sacrifice us to their queen. Couldn’t get any more pathetic than that._ He shook the nasty thoughts from his head and, with some force, yanked the knife out of the tree trunk and chose a stick from the pile.

   He narrowed his eyes as he struggled to hold it in a comfortable position. Once finding a somewhat natural spot, Dipper began carving the stick inwards. Shaping the point proved more difficult than he thought, despite Bill’s knife being quite sharp, each stroke dragged and stuttered as he glided the blade through the bark.

   The man grew more impatient as he carved more and seemed like little change had happened. As he brought the knife towards him, especially recklessly, the knife sliced through the flesh on his wrist and blood oozed quickly out of the wound. Dipper sharply sucked up air as a bolt of pain surged up his spine. He dropped the knife and stick hastily and examined the cut.

   The liquid dribbled down the sides of his arm and showed no signs of stopping soon. The cut itself was fairly shallow, but etched down his wrist a few inches. “Ah fuck me..” He growled out to himself. He tightly gripped his arm with his other hand and kept it extended outwards as he stumbled around to find Bill’s bag.

   He spotted it near the entrance of the tent and he rushed over to it. He must have some bandages with him. He seemed to be prepared for everything else. Dipper swiftly opened it and rummaged through its contents.  

   Dipper saw no ionic white box with a red plus sign, nor any box or container in fact. Extra clothes, water can, hand-held shovel, rope, a towel, and duct tape. His mind raced of what he could do, he glanced down at the towel in the bag. Right! Dipper hastily pulled the towel out and wrapped the cloth around the cut.

   Dipper clenched his teeth as he gripped the towel against the wound in order to stop it from bleeding. He let out little pants as he stood up and returned back to the fireside and sat on the log.

   He was surprised that Bill hadn’t woken up from Dipper running around and even being right in front of the tent and scavenging through his backpack. He was glad of it, he wouldn’t want Bill thinking that he wasn’t capable of taking care of himself. He’d be embarrassed if Bill saw him accidently cut himself while trying to carve a spear. Well, maybe ‘embarrass’ isn’t the right word. ‘Ashame’ probably fit better.    

   Dipper sat and watched the flames flicker as he waited the throbbing pain to ease away.

\--------------------------------------------------------

    Dipper’s eyes grew incredibly heavy as the sun’s light began to peek through the trees. The fire became a pitiful bundle of embers barely producing dim light in the dark clearing. He sat on the log, only making two spears after a few hours.

   Dipper almost fell off the log and began to sway to one side as his mind went blank with drowsiness. He snapped awake when he heard startling close pitter-patter of a creature in the forest’s brush.

   He heard it suck in a large whiff of the air. The hair on the back of Dipper’s neck rose as his blood began to run cold and he was frozen in place.

   Dipper tore his fearful gaze from the dark forest floor and glanced over to the hunter knife that laid close to his hand. He quickly grabbed it without a second thought and hastily snuck over to the tent.

   Dipper peeked inside, Bill laid still in the covers, deep in slumber. He nudged his leg and harshly whispered, “Bill get up! There’s something here!”

   Bill woke up with a start and looked at Dipper with confused eyes before his brain fully restarted. He jumped up from the blankets and pushed Dipper out of the tent, taking his knife back.

   Dipper grabbed his bag behind him and slung it over his shoulders as quietly as he could. Bill crouched low to the ground and hid behind one of the logs opposite to the forest. Dipper mimicked him and stayed in tow behind him.

   Bill signaled him to get one of the spears that were placed at the base of the other tree trunk in the clearing a handful of feet away. Dipper looked at him like he’d grew another head, he shook his head rapidly.

   Bill growled under his breath, “Do you _want_ to die?” Dipper shook his head to that too. “Then I suggest getting a spear.”

   Dipper swallowed dryly and crept over to the pair of carved sticks. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest and sweat beginning to coat his hands and bead on his forehead.

    _Snap!_ A stick had broken from within the shrubbery. Dipper felt his stomach leap into his throat and heart fall down to his feet. He glanced over at Bill for guidance. He stared at Dipper with a wild, panicked look and motioned to him to speed it up.

   He swallowed down his fear and gained the brief courage to stick out his hand and grab the spear. The creature was clearly audible now. It was taking short and rapid sniffs, detecting something in the air. Though they couldn’t see it yet, they knew they couldn’t move without it finding them.  

   Dipper stared at Bill as he peeked over the ridge of the tree trunk to catch a glance at the predator. As his eyes reached over the top he almost ducked immeadiately. Dipper gripped the spear in his hands tightly, his knuckles turned white.

   Bill pointed over to the opposite side of Dipper’s log and mouthed “It’s coming on your side.”

   Dipper’s eyes grew with fear and he began to move towards Bill. But Bill put his hand up, “Stop. I’ll come to you” he mouthed.

   Bill hastily moved to the bottom of the trunk and peeked around its edge. The creature had its back turned and sniffing at the ground. He took this opportunity and quickly crawled over to Dipper’s side. Dipper felt an immediate feeling of protection just having Bill right there. The feeling was short lived as Bill glanced down at his wrist. He grabbed his arm and pulled it close to his face to examine it. His brow furrowed in frustration and he harshly tossed his hand back, he peered over the log.

   Dipper’s gut emptied and he just stared at him for a moment as he looked for the creature. He tore his gaze and looked himself. The small humanoid creature was on all fours and sniffing at the ground like a dog by the firepit just a couple feet away. He could see now that it wore a red pointed hat and battered blue overalls. It had white, unkempt facial hair too. Just like the depictions in the mysterious book. Dipper had to stop himself from audibly gasping. _This can’t be a coincidence, can it?_   

   The gnome had began to turn as it found a clue to where what it was smelling was. Dipper had a feeling he knew what it was looking for. Bill pulled Dipper down and stared at the ground as he concentrated on listening to the gnome.  

   The gnome stopped in its tracks and whipped its attention over somewhere else. Dipper could once again feel his heart stop as the gnome had suddenly stilled. Perhaps it had found them, Dipper thought for sure it had.

            But out from the forest the sound of rustling overgrowth approached the clearing. The creature took off in the direction of the movement and Dipper could faintly hear whispering from where the gnome had dashed off to.

   Bill tugged on Dipper’s shirt. He talked so quietly that Dipper could hear the popping noises in his mouth more than the words he spoke. “I’m going to get my bag, then we run.” Dipper could only nod and brace himself to run.

   Bill counted down from five on his fingers, once his last finger stood he dashed to his bag and grabbed it hastily. Dipper barely managed to stand up before Bill had took off onto the path they had came from.

   It took a few moments before Dipper could hear the gnomes begin to chase them. Dipper held onto the spear like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He felt sick to his stomach like he was going to vomit, but he didn’t have time for that.

   If the gnomes caught them, he could only guess what would happen. The book mentioned them almost kidnapping the author of the book to offer him to their queen, but didn’t say if they were carnivores either.

   They did attack his face and tried scratching his eyes out before. Who says they aren’t likely to be?

   Panic pricked Dipper’s brain as he heard more and more sets of footprints follow Bill and him. He prayed to God that his brain was only tricking him into hearing more. He dared not to look back, knowing that he’d get even more scared and burn himself faster.

   Dread washed over him as he realized that this path is two miles long. He was barely able to run one in gym class in highschool!

   Bill called over his shoulder, “Move out of the way!”

   Dipper drifted off to the side, leaving a clear shot between the pack of gnomes and Bill. Dipper was confused as to why he wanted him to move.

   Bill reached into the pocket that was sewed to the front of his shirt and drew out a small clear baggie containing what looked like golf-ball sized firework poppers. He reached inside and chucked it behind him. It landed just on the ground before the gnomes, exploding into a cloud of smoke and producing a wall of fog.

   Bill had fallen back to Dipper’s pace and snatched his wrist before sprinting off again. Dipper’s mind buzzed with questions, but quickly disappeared as panic took over his system once again.

  As the two men disappeared around a bend in the path the gnomes were no longer in sight, still they continued running until their legs and lungs burned. By then, they could see the opening in the trees where their cars were parked on the horizon.

   Dipper let out a breathless chuckle of hope and flashed a grin over to Bill.

   The ground started to shake.

   They both stopped and looked around wildly for any possible dangers in case of an earthquake. The tree tops behind them behind them began to push away in correlation as the shaking turned to tremors that wracked Dipper’s whole body.

   They caught a glimpse of the massive creature as it pushed through the trees. A humanoid being made up of the gnomes with a pointed top. It dashed into their direction as it turned the bend and noticed them standing in the middle of the pathway.

   Dipper was frozen in place for what seemed like hours before Bill yelled, “Dipper! Come on!”, at him and grabbed his hand, pulling him off once again.

   Bill took off with full force and Dipper stumbled behind him as his body started to kick back up from its frozen state. Bill pulled them into the woods and took them a few yards away from the path. Things looked hopeful as the neared closer and closer to the road.

   The giant gnome monster stayed on the path as it desperately tried to look through the trees to spot them. It grunted in a disharmonized array of voices, booming over the the landscape, nearly tripping up Bill and Dipper with the vibrations that shook the ground.

   Finally, they reached the edge, only to discover a chain-linked fence. Bill growled in frustration as he gripped the metal bars. He began to climb the fence before Dipper said, “Wait! Look, its barbed!”

  “Fucking Jesus Christ! We can’t get a goddamn break can we?!” Bill shouted before hopping back down. Dipper saw him clench his fist to hard that his knuckles turned white. He shoved his knife into his pocket and took Dipper’s hand again.

   “Watch where you point that damn thing.”, Bill growled out as Dipper almost jabbed him with the wooden spear he held. He quickly mumbled out an apology that received no  acknowledgement.

   Bill dragged Dipper’s sluggish body over to the path, taking a moment to glance down at the giant who was jogging slowly down the path and looking through the trees. Bill counted down to three and once he reached one they dashed onto the pathway and out of the woods. The giant immediately spotted them and took off running.

   Its feet caused waves of vibrations in the ground, causing Bill’s car to bounce up into the air and crash back into the ground loudly, setting off its alarm and airbags. Dipper’s car did as well, but survived the wave with the alarm blaring and the windshield cracked in large pieces.

   Dipper fumbled with the the key but managed to open it and start it before the monster managed to get too close. Dipper quickly hit the gas pedal to the ground at the car jolted to life. Bill held on to the dash with fear and panic plastered to his face.

   The giant chased them onto the road, Dipper glanced into the rear-view mirror, the only thing you could see of the monster was it’s feet and part of its legs. It stood still on the road just outside of the entrance of the forest. Dipper laughed triumphantly, “It’s not chasing us anymore!” He smiled over to Bill who gave a genuine grin back.

   Suddenly as Dipper looked over at Bill the ground shook violently once again. Bill looked ahead screamed, “Dipper!”

   A humongous Redwood tree that was snapped in half laid on its side in the road. Dipper slammed down on his brakes, forcing the two men’s bodies to be hurled forward, only being caught by the seatbelts that dug into them painfully.

   Miraculously, the car had came to a stop before it hit the Redwood tree. Dipper was dazed for a moment before he noticed the giant bolting down the road after them.

   Bill caught a glance over to a remote log house that seemed empty.“There’s a house over there!” he said quickly, pointing. Dipper nodded and jumped out of the car.

   They sprinted to the house and banged on the wooden door. After a few tense moments they decided to take shelter in the shed that Bill had seen from behind the house in the car.

   As they made it into the small shack the giant had reached them and stood in front of the shed. Dipper and Bill stood frozen in place looking up at the towering amalgamation of gnomes. The gnome that sat at the top of the strange humanoid creature called down to them.

   “Well howdy there!”, it said sickeningly nice. “Sorry about this whole thing. We might’ve gone too far. Didn’t mean to scare ya’ so much.”

   “The fuck is going on?!” Bill demanded, taking a step forward, his eyes burning with fury.

   The gnome chuckled nervously. “Right.” It tapped its foot, commanding the other gnomes to create a path for it to climb down. As it reached the ground, they could see that it looked much younger than the rest of the gnomes that had gray hair. This one had brown, healthy hair, and of course had facial hair. It held a box, that would be quite small to a normal sized person, but the box was about the size of the gnome’s hand.

   “Your partner,” it spoke, gesturing over to Dipper. “We would like to propose.”

   Neither Bill or Dipper responded, not sure what to say. The gnome cleared its throat again and continued, “Ya’ see, our King is getting quite old and is looking for a bride! So how ‘bout it?” It got down on its knee and opened the box, revealing a ring decorated with large crystals.

   Dipper felt his eye twitch. Did they think he was a girl? He started laughing softly that grew into loud and uncontrollable snorts. The gnome looked confused and furrowed his eyes.

   “I’m a guy!” he laughed out. “We both are!”

   Bill started laughing too as he realized what was going on. The gnome, on the other hand, grew an expression of rage and frustration. It slammed the box closed.

   “How dare you make fun of us?!” It growled out. It stalked forward to them. The creature behind it began to inch forward, but the gnome in front of them held up its hand to command them to stop.

   Despite the gnome’s tiny stature, Dipper felt intimidated by it as it walked forward. Anxiety crept up his back.

   It stopped right in front of Dipper. “You will take us to find a bride. If you refuse, you will be taken back to our King and given as an Offering.”

   Dipper glanced nervously over to Bill. “A-actually, there’s one right here!” Bill spoke.

  The gnome’s face lit up, “Wait, really? Where is she? Bring her out!” It tried to peek inside of the shed, but Bill had block its view.

   “Ah, ah, ah!” He sneered. “She says that she wants to talk to you in here!”

   “Oh!”, it exclaimed before its expression morphed into a laid back manner, it brushed any dirt that may have still lingered on its blue overalls and strolled into the shed between Dipper and Bill. Bill had closed the door behind it and Dipper stepped in front of it to block the gnome.

   The gnome looked around wildly. “W-where is she?”  

   Bill took the nearest appliance without looking and pointed it at the gnome. A leafblower. “Here’s your bride.”

   The gnome smirked. “Ha, you’re threatening me with a leafblower?”

   “Bill, what are you doing?” Dipper asked briskly.

   “Trust me, I know exactly what I’m doing.” Bill smiled devilishly. “Pucker up bucko! You may now kiss the bride!” He turned the leaf blower on to suck.

   The leaf blower burst to life and began sucking in the air around it, including the gnome, like a vortex. The tiny gnome tried to escape its pull and dug its nails into the wooden boards of the shed. After a few moments of it struggling, it finally was sucked into the barrel of the leaf blower where only its head stuck out.

   Bill cranked up the power of the machine. “That’s for stalking us.” The gnome began to cry out in pain as its body was forced further into the barrel. He cranked up the power once again, “And that’s for thinking Dipper was a girl!”

   Bill looked up to Dipper who was slightly put off by Bill hurting the gnome, but also was thrilled that his plan had worked. “Want to do the honors?”

   Dipper nodded and swung open the door and went to Bill’s side as he walked out and aimed the leaf blower to the surprised giant. “On three”, Dipper said. “1, 2, 3!”

   Bill and Dipper launched the screaming gnome into the monster of stacked gnomes that disbursed upon impact. The gnome flew off into the distance screaming curses to them as the rest of the gnomes crumbled to the ground in a confused panic shouting for their leader and running off after the flying gnome in the woods.

   After the gnomes had all disappeared into the depths of the forest again, Bill dropped the leaf blower and promptly fell onto his back in a fit of giggles, a wide smile stretching across his face.

   Dipper chuckled down at him, “What in the world are you doing?” He shakily sat down next to him, his legs weak from running and the adrenaline fading from his system.

   “I’m- Who the fuck knows!”, Bill said, making himself burst out laughing. His laughter was contagious, making Dipper laugh uncontrollably.

   Bill’s laughs died down to small giggles in the back of his throat, “Hey, lay down with me.” He reached up to Dipper. Dipper’s eyes darted around in thought before he hesitantly laid down.

   “What is it?” Dipper asked.

  

   “What is what?” Bill replied.

   “Why do you want me to lie down?”

   Bill shrugged before looking up at the trees that hung over the shed. “My fucking car better not be broken.” He said, deadpanned.

   Dipper huffed with amusement, “I really doubt that it’s not.”

   They laid there in silence for a few moments taking the time to reflect on what happened. Bill had been the first to break the quietness.

   “Dipper”, he mumbled. Dipper turned his gaze from the morning sky towards Bill. “You have to promise me something.”   

   Dipper turned on his side, “What?”

  “You have to promise to be honest with me.” Bill said, struggling to keep a straight face.

  

Dipper gave him a skeptical look, “What is this for?”

   “Don’t worry about it! Just promise, okay?” A short laugh escaped from his mouth and he began to grin freely.

Dipper lolled his shoulders. “Yeah okay. I promise to be honest.”

   “Then,” He paused, “Do you trust me?” This time his face went completely blank and his voice lowered to a more serious tone.

   Dipper felt off by Bill’s sudden seriousness. His voice cracked, “I-I mean,” he cleared his throat. “You did just save my life and all.”

   “So, is that a yes?”

   Dipper hesitantly nodded before saying, “Yes. I trust you.”

   Bill’s eyes lit up, “Then sit up and give me your hands.” He quickly sat up and offered his hands for Dipper’s to meet at.

   Once Dipper had sat up, Bill decided he was taking too long and forcefully took his hands from his lap. A surge of electricity rang throughout the two men’s bodies. Dipper yelped and instinctively retracted his hands from Bill’s, he grasped his hands together as the tingling sensation faded from his hands and traveled through the rest of his body.  

   Bill shook both of his hands as if they were asleep, and the tingling did feel that way somewhat, but was definitely more intense than your foot falling asleep because you sat on it wrong. He gritted his teeth and looked back up at Dipper. “Do you know what the hell that was?”

   Dipper shook his head, “I hadn’t got a damn clue.”

   “Probably those tiny bastards. They probably cursed us already with their voodoo magic.” Bill growled out lowly.

   Dipper chuckled at his comment. “Yeah, we should probably go now. Before the person that lives here arrives.” He stood up, his legs almost collapsing under him. He stuck his arms out for

balance briefly before the world grew steady again.

   Bill mimicked him, swaying back and forth to gain balance as he stood up, his legs visibly shaking as blood rushed through them again. Dipper held onto his shoulder to prevent him from falling over, but Bill idly brushed his hands off of him. “I got it”, he mumbled.

   As they started to ungracefully walk back to the car, limping and their legs wobbling more like cooked noodles, Dipper asked, “So, what were you trying to do before?”

   Bill had grunted in confusion before fully processing what he’d said, focusing more on the rubble that littered the ground from the giant gnome’s feet. “I was going to do a magic trick. Even had my special ball ready too,” he whined, retrieving a small metallic ball from inside his shirt sleeve.

   Dipper’s jaw gaped. “I didn’t even notice it in your sleeve!”

   Bill smirked, “‘A great magician never tells his secrets’- isn’t that what they say?” He tucked the ball into his front shirt pocket.

   Dipper rolled his eyes at Bill, finally reaching the car. He shoved the key into the ignition, and as he twisted it the car strained to start up. Dipper let out a frustrated huff as his attempts failed. He paused to think of what to do. He twisted the key again, bringing the station wagon to life.

   He drove back to the forest’s entrance where Bill’s car still flashed and beeped in alarm. Its frame mangled and the windshield cracked in million angles. Bill retrieved his backpack from the car floor and drew his keys, disarming the noisy and beaten up chevy with a push of a button.

   With a exasperated sigh, Bill climbed out of the station wagon and went over to examine his car. Dipper got out after him, “Should we go back and get your tent?”

   Bill scoffed, “Tch, fuck that shit. I’ll just buy another one. It shouldn’t hurt anything.”

   Dipper chuckled quietly, “Yeah, okay. I should go now. I promised my sister we’d have a picnic.”   

    “Hahah, ah, well. I’ll see you on Friday then. Bring nice clothes.” Bill turned away from him and started to get into his car.

   “But it’s Wednesday…” Dipper trailed off.

   Bill smirked, “You have the day off. Get some rest.”

Dipper stood frozen in awe as his mind caught up to reality. He blinked blearily before nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yes sir!”


End file.
